


Two Skeletons and a Mage

by GalaxyBrownies



Series: Eight Skeletons and a Mage Collection [2]
Category: Horrortale - Fandom, Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Cannibalism, Death, F/M, Female Reader, Gore, Horror, Reader Insert, this is a side fic for eight Skeletons and a mage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2019-03-18
Packaged: 2019-09-06 02:51:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 24,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16823650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalaxyBrownies/pseuds/GalaxyBrownies
Summary: Side fic to Eight Skeletons and a Mage.A look into the Horrortale universe.





	1. When You Fall Down

**Author's Note:**

> [My Tumblr](https://galaxybrownies.tumblr.com)   
>  [ESaaM Ask Blog](https://ask-esaam.tumblr.com/)   
>  [ESaaM Discord](https://discord.gg/y3fWYp9)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You fall a long long ways.

Ow.

You don’t like falling.

You’re lying down on your back, curled defensively around your backpack. You don’t remember doing that. Of course, you blacked out midway down, so you didn’t remember much. You wish you were dead, but that apparently wasn’t in the cards for you today.

It’s better to be alive down here than up there, though.

Hopefully.

You’re in something… fluffy. Soft. Cold.

Snow.

You sit up abruptly, brushing your hair out of your face. You crane your head side to side, trying to take in as much of your surroundings as possible. The air smelled damp and moldy. The snow was gray.

You tilt your head way up, nearly parallel with the snowy ground, and see a small white dot which was the hole you jumped into. How were you even alive? For once you hated miracles.

Slowly, and with achy joints, you push yourself up to a standing position. You were glad your backpack fell with you, or you would be even more afraid than you already are.

It was almost strange how you’d come to fall down here. The ground up above had been fine and sturdy, and then it hadn’t. A section of ground in front of you had merely crumbled away into nothingness before your eyes. 

You were never one to take a sign for granted, so you jumped.

And 

F  
E  
L  
L  
D  
O  
W  
N

You always were one for dramatics.

The trees further on look dense, and you’re thinking that maybe you should head in that direction. You move to do so, but stop when you see something in the distance. Something red, something bluish?

You aren’t quite sure, to be perfectly honest.

They look like they’re coming closer.

You scurry into the trees, hoping they’ll give you protection. You don’t know who those people are, but you have a sense of foreboding slowly crawling up your back. You hike your backpack higher up and duck behind a tree as the figures pass you. You don’t get a good look at them, but you can hear the snow crunching under their feet as they walk. They sound big.

“-dunno about that, but-”

Your entire body tenses when you hear the voices talking to each other while they pass you. Snow crunches under your feet, and you hold your breath to avoid making any noise. You don’t know why you feel so completely and utterly terrified at the thought of them finding you, but you’re staying put until they’re gone.

You let out a sigh of relief when they pass you completely, going on their merry way. It wasn’t normal for you to be so apprehensive, so for your alarm bells to be going off like this must say something. You take a moment to calm your breathing, watching your chest move slower and slower as your heart rate drops. You step out cautiously from behind the tree, gripping your backpack straps like it might kill you to let go. 

The pivot out from behind the tree puts you face to face with a stooped-over skeleton, grinning madly. You instinctually scramble back, tripping over a tree root. You fall backwards and hit your head against the bark of another tree, and lie at the base of it with a dazed feeling.

“SANS! I WAS RIGHT! THERE WAS A HUMAN HERE! COME ON!”

It’s a few moments before you’re being peered over by two skeletons. What a day. The dizziness starts to clear a little, and you start to appreciate just how covered in blood these two are. That’s not terrifying at all. 

You sit up, trying to ignore the wooziness in your head as the skeletons scramble to push you back down.

“NO, NO. STAY DOWN.”

“paps, can we just take her straight back to town this time? do we have to do the whole song and dance?”

“I DO NOT SEE WHAT THIS HAS TO DO WITH FRANCE.”

“no, not france, just-“ the skeleton growls, picking at a jagged hole in his skull that your clouded vision was only now allowing you to see.  
That didn’t look sanitary. You cringe at the gory visual, unused to seeing something like that. You probably shouldn’t hold him to the same standard as a human, but how was he even alive? 

Both of them sure do have mighty scary teeth. Yup. The taller one’s almost seem to be bloodstained. You don’t want to know what stained them.

“NOW! PUZZLES!” The taller skeleton hoists you up by the armpits and set you harshly on your feet before jogging off to who knows where. You look confusedly at the shorter skeleton.

“what are you looking at me for? we’re gonna have a great time,” he grins. “it’s nice to _**meat**_ you.” You don’t understand the joke and you’re not sure you want to. The skeleton holds out his hand. “i’m sans. sans the skeleton.” Grateful for a bit of politeness, you take his hand, and shake firmly. 

That was the wrong decision.

You scream in agony as a drill cuts into the soft flesh of your hand and _rotates_ , moving deeper and deeper into your dominant hand. The hand would be effectively useless now to who you now knew very clearly was a threat. What could you do? You couldn’t back away, his hand was attached to you by the drill which was _still embedded in your palm_.

You try to jerk your hand away, scream stuttering in your throat. You don’t think you’ve ever been in so much pain in your entire life. It whirs, and it digs, and it keeps rotating.

Your breathing quickens, heart-rate pounding in your chest and your ears and your throat. You couldn’t die here. You wouldn’t die here. 

You were determined not to.

“woah, there.” Sans grins wildly, suddenly to the side of you. “that’s cheating. you can’t do that.”

Do what? You hadn’t done anything. You didn’t think so, anyway. There was a strange lump in your chest and a buzzing in your hands and a new, pounding migraine.

“interesting,” Sans speculates, still staring at you with that unnerving grin. “help a friend out and tell me sometime. seeya.”

He’s gone.

You collapse into the snow. You immediately wince and draw back your right palm from the icy powder. You didn’t know how to take care of wounds like that. You hoped your hand would be okay, that he hadn’t severed any tendons.

You didn’t know if this was better or worse than up above. You shudder from a wave of cold that suddenly ripples through you, and pull your olive green jacket closer to yourself. It was thin, but it was better than nothing. Today was turning out much different than you thought it would be.

You force yourself to stand, still shivering from the snow and the pain and your fear. You step out onto the path, out of the forest. You supposed it was no use hiding from them now, if they had magic and knew you existed. You could run into the forest and make yourself a home, but you hadn’t fallen down here to live, had you? You’d rather face your problems head on anyways. More efficient that way.

Blood is dripping from your palm, down your fingers, and into the snow, effectively melting a trail of drops into the powder as you walk. That was cool, but you needed to wrap it if you were going to get anything done.

You sit on the side of the path and pull your backpack from your back, unzipping it to rummage through the contents. Hesitantly, you grab the only roll of bandages you have. You should have brought more. You’d need them here, if your introduction to Sans was any indication. Or maybe they were anomalies and you were completely wrong.

You should probably be freaking out more about the existence of skeletons.

Nah. Not worth the time or effort.

You don’t get far before you see something else that’s weird. It sparkles, shines a golden light which stands out from the dingy atmosphere. Normally it would be your compulsion to back away from the weird, unexplained object, but for some reason right now you’re feeling the opposite. Almost as if you’re being drawn to it, you reach out, touch the star,

And [SAVE].

[FILE 1 SAVED.]

[NAME NOT FOUND.]

[HP RESTORED.]

You’re filled with determination.

———

“SANS! SHE’S HERE!”

“i can see that, papyrus. can you stop shouting? you’re hurting the hole in my head.”

“NO, BE QUIET!” Papyrus strikes a pose. “HUMAN! WELCOME TO YOUR FIRST PUZZLE!”

It doesn’t really look like much. Just an expanse of snow. Maybe he wasn’t very competent.

“you get three freebies. if you’re ever stuck on a puzzle, just hold up the number of freebies you have left and we’ll solve it for you. got it?”  
Sounded reasonable. You liked puzzles, you were up for it.

“FRISBEES ARE NOT IN THE BUDGET SANS.”

“are you gonna do this every damned time paps?freebies.” He emphasizes, rubbing his forehead in frustration. There’s been times before this?

“YES, THAT IS WHAT I SAID! FRISBEES!”

“goddamnit papyrus! _freebies, goddamn freebies_!”

“IF THEY ARE SO DAMNED THEN WHY ARE WE GIVING THE HUMAN THREE OF THEM?”

“you know what? forget it.”

You stare slightly amused at their antics, frozen in place. You were incredibly cold, you needed to get inside before you got hypothermia. You supposed it was better than being in a place that was too hot, though. You hated the intense cold but you couldn’t stand the heat.

Papyrus hands his brother a ball, then gestures towards you. Abruptly, the ball is shoved into your hands, and you see Sans back with Papyrus, orb-less. Weird. What was this thing? It seemed to be made of some sort of metal, but doesn’t have any facets on it aside from a single screw at the top. Did it do anything?

“THE ORB WILL PROTECT YOU!” He jovially announces. Okay. You clutch it close to your chest. You weren’t liking the look of those blood stained teeth. If the orb would protect you, you were never letting go of it. You take a step forward, trembling ever so slightly. 

_snap_

Ah. Bear trap.

———

It’s cold.

It’s cold and it’s dark.

You

You don’t exist.

You aren’t real.

The shining gold hurts your eyes. You don’t want to look at it, but you do.

[̷̨̧̢̝͕̮̪̺͓̤̺̺̙͓̼̗̰̯̫͔̟̝͖̞̖̻̳̪̺̦̭͍̫̓̅̐͗̇̾̂͛͒͂͆̓̓̓̽̆͛͜R̸̢̧̢̡̡̬̫̺̻̪̰̳̣̹͚̺̠̘̝͙̣̬̐̇͆̾̇̃͑̄̚ͅͅḘ̴̡̢̨͎̻̤̮̜͕̹̺̦͈̪̠͇͚̠̟̩̫̞͚̹͜͝S̴̢̯̮̣̘̼͚̹̬͎͈͈̞͛̾̓̐̋̽̎͌̌̈́̉̎́͌̉̒̚͜͜͝͝͠ͅĘ̸̡̢̙͔̥̣̰͎̖̠̝͍̹̞̫͈͈̟͍̗͍͎́̈̿̀͆͊̃̑͆͑̒̄́̆͛͗̚T̵̬̯̟̣̫̳̱͍̻̺̬̳̞͈̟̼̦̫̖̖͉̱̐͐̐͆̈́̃̋̔͊̒͛͆̓̓́̇͌͑̿̐̚͠͠͝]̶̭̻͙̞̐̔̓̆̐̔̊̃͘͝ [CONTINUE]

[CONTINUE]

———

You’re back at the golden star.

You just... did you just- was that real? Did you just... die? Was it really that easy? Did you really have to go to all these lengths to fall down here, when death was that easy?

Did you turn back time or were you just revived like you had an extra life in a video game? You supposed you would figure it out when and if you went back to that ‘puzzle’. You don’t think you’ve ever heard of a puzzle that includes a bear trap.

Nobody should be able to remember their own death. You can remember the pain. You can remember the sucking, crushing cold that came after. You hadn’t even been aware of yourself, or your body, or your thoughts. You hadn’t been a person.

And you were back. Whoopdidoo. You don’t think you’ve ever even seen a bear trap before, much less had one of its spikes five inches into your liver. That was informative, if not completely and utterly horrifying and traumatizing. You don’t want to go back. 

You don’t. 

You curl up in the snow, and hope no one will see you cry.


	2. When You Do Puzzles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You do puzzles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [My Tumblr](https://galaxybrownies.tumblr.com)   
>  [ESaaM Ask Blog](https://ask-esaam.tumblr.com/)   
>  [ESaaM Discord](https://discord.gg/y3fWYp9)

“SANS! SHE’S HERE!”

You were back. You wouldn’t fail this time.

“i can see that, papyrus. can you stop shouting? you’re hurting the hole in my head.”

“NO, BE QUIET!” Papyrus strikes the same pose as before. Or would that be technically the first time? You were confused. “HUMAN! WELCOME TO YOUR FIRST PUZZLE!”

They start arguing about freebies again. Well, maybe you should call it an argument about frisbees. The second time around, you can’t help but notice how genuinely excited Papyrus seems to have you do his puzzles. Although, knowing what you knew about him so far, he was probably more excited at the thought of you dying to them.

What could you do differently? If you used something else to set the trap off, they’d surely know that you had an unfair advantage. If there was one thing you weren’t, it was unfair. Even if they were being terribly unfair to you, you didn’t really want to do the same. Somehow, you don’t really want to see them upset.

You try to simply walk around it. When you do, a patch of bones shoot up from the ground at the edge of your feet, knocking you abruptly off balance. You manage to catch yourself from falling, but unfortunately for you, you put your foot in the wrong place— directly to the side.

_snap_

———

[CONTINUE]

———

“Jeez, you’re really bad at this.”

Your eyes shoot open in the patch of snow, your heart hammering in your chest as you quickly sit up. Who said that? As far as you’d seen, everything should be the same when you die. You’d never heard a voice like that before. Was it another skeleton?

“Ahem. Over here.”

You turn your head to the right, then jump and scramble back on your hands when you catch sight of the one-eyed flower an inch from your face. Who knew flowers could talk?

“Stop dying. It’s really annoying to have to redo everything, you know,” the flower complains, and you can’t help but be shocked once again. 

You nod your head frantically in response, hands clenching the snow under your fingers like you could actually do anything with handfuls of frozen water.

“Don’t talk much, huh?” The flower taunts you, swaying back and forth slowly. “I’ve met people like that. You probably won’t get much done down here if you’re a mute.”

Your breath catches in your throat, and you push yourself abruptly to a standing position, eyeing the flower wearily.

“Do you have a name?” The flower asks. You don’t respond, simply staring at it blankly in reply. It seems to get the message, and carries on. “I’m Flowey. Flowey the flower. Things can get pretty intense down here. I’d watch your back.”

The flower winks at you, then shoots underground. There’s no trace of upturned snow when he leaves, and you blink in disbelief at what you just saw. You must be losing your mind. 

———

“SANS! SHE’S HERE!”

Against all odds, yeah, you were. It was kind of annoying, actually. You couldn’t seem to just die, even though that’s why you were down here in the first place.

This time, you don’t walk around the bear trap.

This time, you run.

This time, you get impaled on the bones instead of knocked off balance.

You never wanted to know how it felt to have your intestines pushed to the side by a bone running through you, but here you were. You can feel its sharp end in your throat before you die.

———

[CONTINUE]

———

“I’m really starting to get tired of this.”

You open your eyes on the cold ground, gritting your teeth at the realization that the flower was back. You weren’t one to judge people by first impressions, but it seemed that rule was being broken now.

“The orb will _protect_ you, you idiot,” The flower sneers, leering over your face. You swat it’s yellow petals away from your vicinity and sit up, rubbing at your stomach and throat. While the bear trap had given you a mostly instantaneous death, you’d choked and sputtered and _slid down_ on the bones for nearly half a minute before your weakened body finally gave out.

It was disturbing how used to death you were becoming. You almost didn’t mind the cold dark blackness that came after. 

Almost.

You glance at Flowey with a helpless look. You honestly had no clue what to do. 

“ _Stars_ , you’re a moron,” The flower exclaims before shooting back underground. You sigh. Seemed you weren’t getting any information from him.

Your legs shake this time as you force yourself to a stand. You didn’t like this one bit. You don’t know why you’re continuing to throw yourself at this puzzle, but a burning feeling inside of you compelled you to keep trying at it. If you left now, you’d feel wrong. Incomplete.

So you trudge back to the skeletons and their insipid puzzle.

“SANS! SHE’S HERE!”

His loud, screeching voice was starting to get on your nerves. You couldn’t wait until you got past this and actually got to hear something new. On the bright side, he was so far away that it sounded like someone yelling from a distance rather than someone yelling right into your ear.

When Sans drops the orb into your hands for the fourth time, you don’t quite keep a grip on it. It slips out of your cold, numb hands and falls directly towards the bear trap. Knowing what’s coming, you jump backwards from where you are, narrowly avoiding the large bloodstained teeth of the trap.

You...did it.

Kind of.

...you weren’t going to call your victory into question.

The orb had been flung back at you, landing squarely at your feet. You glance down at it, then back up at the skeletons. Sans seemed mildly disappointed that you didn’t die, but Papyrus was vibrating with excitement. You stuff the orb into your backpack. Even if it was a just a metal ball with a screw in it, it had to be useful somehow.

You hike your bag up and make your way across the path in front of you to the skeletons. You feel sort of anxious standing so closely to people who you were starting to suspect _ate_ people like you, but you suppose that if you die you’ll just end up back at the star.

“I AM IMPRESSED!” Papyrus exclaims with a menacing lilt to his voice. “YOU ONLY ACCIDENTALLY ALMOST DIED ONCE!”

“s’not much of an accomplishment,” Sans shrugs. “woulda been better if she’d really gone for the gold and kicked the bucket.”

“SANS!” Papyrus scolds. “WE DO NOT SPEAK SO RUDELY TO HUMANS BEFORE WE...” He clears his nonexistent throat. “ANYWAYS! I AM SO EXCITED!” Papyrus exclaims, nearly jumping for joy. “THE HUMAN MIGHT ACTUALLY MAKE IT TO THE LAST PUZZLE, SANS!”

“if the assorted traps, japes, and people don’t get to her first,” Sans comments. He probably had a point. Maybe you should walk through the forest to get places instead of along the path where the skeletons always seemed to stay.  
when you’d ducked into the forest before, you’d only been behind the first layer of trees. You wonder how far the woods reach.

“NONSENSE, BROTHER,” Papyrus waves him off. “I HAVE A GOOD FEELING ABOUT THIS ONE!”

“does that feeling happen to live in your stomach?” Sans replies snarkily.

“I DO NOT HAVE A STOMACH,” Papyrus glares at his brother.

You glance confusedly between the two as the banter continues. At least you weren’t listening to them say the same thing over and over again. Despite their horrific elements, they seemed kind of goofy. You can’t see yourself hanging out with them, but the comic relief is much appreciated.

“BESIDES, I AM SURE SHE WANTS TO DO MY PUZZLES!”

He was right, you’d really rather do puzzles than go with people who you were really starting to think wanted to eat you. At least if you do the puzzles, you’ll have more time to stall before they inevitably chomp you.

You look at him blankly, but he doesn’t seem deterred by your silence.

“ONWARDS, BROTHER!” He exclaims. 

And just like that, they’ve left you in the snow. 

Strange sounds are starting to come from the forest next to you. You edge away from it. Maybe hiding in the forest isn’t really the best idea. A low rumble reverberates out from it, finally starting you back on the path, trudging forwards.

“Nice job getting past that first puzzle.”

You slip in the snow, falling straight into the powder. That flower really needed to warn you that he was there before talking to you.

“Word of advice: don’t go into the forest.” A growl accentuates his warning, and your eyes widen in fear. Flowey bobs to the side slightly. “Oops! That’s my warning! Gotta go!”

He disappears once again. You shiver as you stand up and hike your backpack up your back. That flower gave you the chills. You didn’t know what his deal was, or why he was talking to you at all. You hope he doesn’t act as aggressive towards you as the skeletons do. You don’t know if you can handle _three_ people trying to violently murder you.

~~Succeeding in violently murdering you.~~

“HUMAN! WELCOME TO YOUR SECOND PUZZLE!”

All that stands before you is an expanse of blue snow. Looks harmless enough. You eye the skeletons suspiciously, untrusting of this seemingly innocuous puzzle. You’d gotten trapped in a bear trap two too many times to act like you felt safe.

You glance at the forest next to the path, trodding over to pick up a stick. You don’t see any laying on the ground, so you snap it off a tree. A small patch of bones shoot up under your foot, making you stumble and lose your balance again. You catch yourself, leaning against the tree.

“hands off the scenery,” Sans warns you, tugging at an eye socket with an annoyed expression. “one thing nice about this place left.”

You frown in sympathy. Had there been a time when everything was nice? You’d never seen this place be different than this. You keep a hand wrapped around the stick anyways. You already had it, might as well use it.

You pad back over to the blue snow, and prod it with the stick. To your surprise, when you try to take the stick back, it refuses to come with you! The snow clings to it like a koala to its mother, almost pulling it back in with a ferocious elasticity. You try and yank it out by pulling on it with all of your might, but the _snow yanks back_.

You fall in face first.

Nonononononono no no nonono

“thing about blue snow is,” Sans drawls, scratching at his chin absentmindedly, “it pulls ya right in. _**snow**_ problem if you wanna use a _freebie_.” At the last word his grin grows even more menacing than it already is.

“BROTHER! I AM SURE THE HUMAN CAN FIND HER OWN WAY OUT OF THIS PUZZLE,” Papyrus huffs, fists on hips. “NOT EVERYONE IS AS LAZY AS YOU.”

You would use a freebie, but your hands are trapped in the snow. You can’t flash the sign. Due to falling in face first, you can’t even yell for a freebie, if you wanted to speak in the first place. The only part of your face not stuck in the snow is the top of your head, allowing a little space to tilt your head up and see what the skeletons are doing.

Which is a whole lot of nothing. 

Their smiles seem to grow wider as the snow starts pulling you in. You don’t think that they intend on helping you. You can’t breath. Maybe that was the point.

“when you see snow like this,” Sans continues. “it’s always best to just _stop_.”

The snow is dragging your feet in first, body starting to tilt horizontally. You take a small gasp of air as your nose is slightly freed, and greedily take in all you can before you start sinking even further and have it trapped once more.

“think of it like a stop sign,” Sans advises you unhelpfully. “when you see the sign, you stop.”

You can feel the strange lump in your chest building again. The only other time you’d felt this is when you first met Sans, and had that horrid drill in your hand. The wound was healed now thanks to the golden star, but the bloody bandages were still wrapped around it. 

You wonder if you have a scar. You squeeze your eyes shut to keep the snow out as you sink so far that you begin to asphyxiate again.

“course, the snow is blue, so maybe you should think of blue stop signs instead. got it? when you see blue snow, think about blue stop signs.”

That didn’t make any sense.

None of this made _any sense_.

You wouldn’t die here.

You _couldn’t_ die here.

You refused to die here.

You felt determined.

The lump in your chest grows until it hurts, and finally explodes in a wave of energy. 

And suddenly you’re standing next to the brothers. Your head hurts so badly that you want to throw up or pass out, whichever came first. Maybe both. 

The blue snow trails off of you in tendrils, slowly dripping off. It’s cold, and wet. You’re glad that you fell in face down, or it would be covering your backpack.

The brothers blink at you in surprise. 

“WELL.” Papyrus starts. “THAT WAS UNEXPECTED.”

Sans squints at you suspiciously. “...yeah.”

“SANS, I CANNOT BELIEVE YOU HAVE ALREADY HAD SUCH A BAD INFLUENCE ON THE... HUMAN? YOU _ARE_ HUMAN, RIGHT?”

What had you done to make him suddenly question that? You swallow your questions down under the gaze of the bloody-toothed skeleton, staring at your feet instead of answering. You didn’t quite know, yourself.

“i didn’t teach ‘er that.” Sans states bluntly. “looks like she figured it out... all on her own.”

There’s silence for a moment before Papyrus clasps his hands together in excitement. “OH, JOY! THIS ONE MIGHT ACTUALLY LIVE TO THE LAST PUZZLE, THEN! THEN WE CAN HAVE HER FOR DINNER!”

You have a feeling that he actually meant to have you for dinner. And not in the polite sense.

“yeah. _joy_.” Sans sneers and rolls his eye light. “whatever. more work for me, i guess.”

The skeletons leave you again. The blue snow continues to drip off of you, melting into the normal snow beneath your feet. It must be colder than regular white snow, if it sizzled and blended in like that.

You clutch the straps of your backpack nervously, ignoring the way the blue snow residue immediately clings to the material. That was something to worry about another time.

You glance back at the vat of blue snow.

Well, what _used_ to be a vat of blue snow.

There’s not a trace left in the pit. You regret that. The sight that’s left... isn’t pretty.

It doesn’t smell pretty either. 

You’re glad you evaded the fate of the dead humans that were left behind. A sick feeling starts in your stomach at the sight and smell of rotting flesh, now fully exposed to the elements. Those people had had _names_ , and _lives_. 

The thought of turning out like those people if you don’t succeed...

It fills you with DETERMINATION.

A star appears at the edge of the path.

You [SAVE] your progress.

[FILE 1 SAVED]

[NO NAME FOUND]

[HP RESTORED]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [My Tumblr](https://galaxybrownies.tumblr.com)   
>  [ESaaM Ask Blog](https://ask-esaam.tumblr.com/)   
>  [ESaaM Discord](https://discord.gg/y3fWYp9)


	3. When You Finish Doing Puzzles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You finish the puzzles, hilarity ensues (not really).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [My Tumblr](https://galaxybrownies.tumblr.com)   
>  [ESaaM Ask Blog](https://ask-esaam.tumblr.com/)   
>  [ESaaM Discord](https://discord.gg/y3fWYp9)
> 
> Posting early due to the Tumblr Strike tomorrow!

“y’know,” Sans drawls, “they say my bro has the _**human touch**_.”

_tap tap tap tap_

You take couple nervous steps back from Sans’s sentry station. If you were talking you’d probably unleash some witty remark onto the skeleton, but you had too much spite to give in now. 

“but i noticed that you’re pretty much skin an’ bones, human. and i just so happen to have a fresh ‘dog right here.” He extracts a perfect hot dog from his jacket pocket, tossing it in his hand a couple times. “so what’ll it be?” Sans taps his phalanges rhythmically along his sentry station, head resting in his other hand. “i’d hate for you to starve.” He has a look on his face that says that he wouldn’t hate that at all.

_tap tap tap tap_

You shiver slightly at the sound of the rhythmic tapping. The eery silence of the snow absorbing the ambient sound only accentuates the fear factor that Sans’s words and calculated, threatening taps put forward.

The worst part was that he was right, you were pretty hungry. You’d run out of your last packed granola bar five hours ago, and we’re losing choices quick. 

Sans was still staring at you with that grin. You shake your head at him slowly, clenching your fists in preparation. His smile widens, but he doesn’t do anything. You start to walk past his station, hoping that maybe he’d just leave you alone.

When you pass him, he reaches out with lightning fast grip on your arm. He has you turned around so you can see everything above you. You struggle, trying to wrench your arm out of his grip, but claw-like phalanges dig into your skin.

He raises an axe above your head. How extra.

“ **o n e h e a d d o g c o m i n ‘ u p !** ”

It isn’t until he swings that a strangled scream escapes your throat before its suddenly cut off. As is your head.

———

[CONTINUE]

———

That was a terrible idea, wasn’t it? You pat your neck a couple times, even though you know nothing’s there. It was disturbing to you how nonchalant you were becoming about death, especially after a quick death like that, where you hardly felt any pain. What was that, the third or fourth time you’d died? That was three or four more times than anyone else alive.

You roll your neck in a circle a couple times, testing what now felt to you like a loose joint. Maybe there were some effects to this whole “loading a save” thing you seemed to be able to do. You wished for the hundredth time that fate would just let you die.

You make your way back to where Sans and Papyrus are, not really seeing any alternative if you wanted to progress at all. Peering ahead, you can see Sans sitting at his station, and hear a very faint tapping noise in the quiet clearing. You quickly decide not to go back to him. He seemed more unpredictable than Papyrus, anyway.

You hurry over to the small clearing where Papyrus was standing tall with a plate of spaghetti. He really was insanely tall, you didn’t know how it was even possible to tower so high over everything. He was easily three feet taller than you.

When you get close enough for him to talk to you, he stoops down, offering the plate.

“WOULD YOU LIKE TO TRY MY ARTISAN SPAGHETTI? IT IS TO DIE FOR!”

You hesitate to take the plate, and stop yourself abruptly when you notice that one of the meatballs wasn’t a meatball.

_It was a human eye._

You jerk your hands back, stumbling backwards in the snow. You were right. All the signs and clues and aside snark that had tipped you off… they really were going to eat you. You take another jittery steps back, glancing at the amused expression on Papyrus’s face. Did… did he think this was funny? That you were funny? 

You hear a small snicker from the skeleton before he pulls himself back up to full height, and takes the spaghetti with him. 

“SUIT YOURSELF, HUMAN.”

You run back onto the main path towards Sans. Knowing what you did now, the hot dog was probably human meat also. You slide to a stop in front of his station, grimacing at the creepy expression he gives you.

“so, not a _**humanitarian**_ today?” Sans shrugs. “ ‘s fine. they say my bro’s got the _**human touch**_.”

Yes, he’d said that before. You supposed you should get used to the repetition if you were going to keep dying so often.

“say, i noticed that you’re pretty much skin and bones. luckily for you, i’ve got a ‘dog right here.”

He withdraws the hotdog from his pocket again, and you grimace at the sight. It was probably made of intestines or something. You cringe, stepping backwards and shaking your head frantically.

“no? you gotta make a choice, lady. i’d hate to see you starve.” 

You highly doubt that, considering he seemed just fine with chopping your head off. You aren’t really seeing a way past this without eating human.

Unless… did this count as a puzzle?

You raise your hand and flash three fingers in the air. The freebie signal.

Sans raises a brow, sighing while shaking his head in a disappointed motion.

“real shame. could have had a real meal. those are… heh, pretty _**rare**_ down here.”

You would never eat a human.

Even if that meant starvation.

“still wanna use a freebie?” Sans regards your determined face for a moment or two before giving in. “fine.”

“THE HUMAN IS GIVING UP??” Papyrus marches towards you two. “WOWIE, I MUST BE AN EXCELLENT PUZZLE CRAFTER!”

He wasn’t wrong. He was really good at making things that killed you. Even if his brother was the killing factor in this one.

“yeah, well, whatever,” Sans grumbles, stepping back from his station. “now i have to stand up. thanks, human.” He rolls his eyes and stalks off in the direction of the blue snow puzzle. Why was he going back? 

“OH, HUMAN! I AM SO GLAD YOU HAVE MADE IT THIS FAR! NOW YOU CAN MEET THE REST OF THE TOWN!!” Papyrus strides confidently in front of you, and you struggle to keep up with his long steps. What town? Was he finally taking you where he lived? Was that a good thing for you or a bad thing?

You think it might be in your best interest to befriend this guy. His brother seemed to be a bit of a wild card, but Papyrus’s goals seemed very transparent. He wants food and a puzzle solver, both of which happen to be the same person.

You can’t say he doesn’t have his own charm, when he isn’t busy horrifically traumatizing you for life. In another life, you could see the three of you being friends. But this wasn’t another life, was it?

When he brings you into the town, you see the remnants of a small village which seemed to have once been cheerful. Christmas lights are strung up on buildings, but they look as if they long since died, and a few bulbs are even missing from some strings. Despite the abundance of buildings and houses, there isn’t a single person outside doing anything, like a normal town would have. There’s a small convenience shop near the entrance which has a ‘Closed For Business’ sign on its door.

You shiver. Your light jacket, while helpful at first, was starting to chill. Consequently, so were you. You boost your backpack up your back as you navigate the streets of the town. According to a sign by the entrance, the town was named ‘Snow in’. Maybe the sign was broken. You’d ask Papyrus what the town was called if you weren’t stubbornly refusing to speak to anyone.

“HUMAN!” Papyrus stops you in front of a building which seems to stand out from the rest. “WE HAVE ARRIVED!”

The building is orange and brown and exudes a warmth that you haven’t felt since you fell down here. The smell coming from the place… is heavenly. The person running this place really knew how to grill meat. You bet the burgers were fantastic.

At least, you hoped that smell was burgers. What if… everyone here ate human? 

Your stomach suddenly turns at the realization that you might have just drooled over the smell of cooking human flesh. You didn’t really want to go inside.

Papyrus nudges you through the door impatiently, despite you not wanting to enter. You stumble forward like the clutz you are, and catch yourself on a nearby chair. Papyrus shuts the door behind you and leaves you alone in the strange restaurant.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in!” 

You jump, turning to face the people inside. There’s three people clustered at the bar ahead of you, all of which are staring at you with desperate eyes. You bite your lip nervously, fidgeting with your hands behind your back.

Finally, someone speaks, but not to you. They turn to an orange bird-looking person and say something.

“Are we gonna…”

“Yeah, I think we should.”

They glance at each other before hopping off of their barstools, tugging their third compatriot with them. They approach you, and you back up against the wall to avoid their hungry stares. They looked ravenous, nearly drooling at the sight of you.

You move to frantically tug the door open, pulling on it with all your strength. It doesn’t budge. You yank furiously on the door handle, leaning back with all your weight as the creatures approach you with menacing smiles plastered on their faces. No one should look that happy to eat another person.

You feel the lump coming in your chest before anything happens this time. You didn’t know exactly what that feeling was, but it always helped you. From stopping Sans from drilling into your hand to somehow teleporting you out of the blue snow while simultaneously vanishing it all, you seemed to have some kind of power. Maybe you should use it.

Instead of trying to push the lump of what you were considering to be magic deeper into your chest, you allow it to do what it wants. The feeling spreads throughout your entire chest and arms, all the way down to the tips of your fingers. Something snaps, rips, and you can actually consciously feel it this time.

You’re outside the bar.

“WOWIE, YOU PASSED THE FOURTH PUZZLE ALREADY? IT USUALLY TAKES HUMANS FOREVER TO GET THROUGH IT!” Papyrus strokes his chin in thought. “IF THEY DO AT ALL.”

You still had two freebies. Couldn’t you just use your one to bypass the last puzzle and finally have this over with? Then again, you didn’t know if they planned on freeing you after solving the last one, or eating you anyway. Maybe it would be better to do the puzzle so you had more time to come up with a way to get away from them.

Papyrus takes you to a clearing, suspiciously empty of any people or trees, despite being just to the side of town. You see a star to the left of the path and scurry over to save before he notices your attention has been diverted.

[HP Restored]

[No Name Found]

[File 1 Saved]

He walks in front of you and turns to face you after you’ve hurried back over to the path. At least you wouldn’t have to start too far back if you died now. You hoped you didn’t die again, you were starting to feel incredibly anxious about the whole ordeal.

“HUMAN! YOUR FINAL PUZZLE IS…” he pauses for dramatic effect. “TO SURVIVE THIS!”

With a quick flash of movement there’s something buried in your gut. Legs shaking in shock, and gasping for breath, you slowly look down to see a sharp bone impaled in your stomach, held by Papyrus’s hand. You shakily look up at his cheerful face before swaying in dizziness and falling into the snow. You don’t even feel the pain. You just felt… warm. Warmth blossoming in your stomach and spreading everywhere else.

“OH, LOOKS LIKE YOU MIGHT NOT PASS THIS ONE,” Papyrus tutts disappointedly. Through your hazy vision, you can see him stash the bone into some invisible space before turning back to you. “SUCH A SHAME, YOU WERE DOING SO WELL!”

You’re… bleeding out. You’re so tired that you can’t actually bring yourself to care, somehow.

The puzzle was a knife. He literally just stabbed you with a knife. A bone, but a knife-bone. You honestly can’t believe that this is your life now. 

You try to flash two fingers for the freebie sign, but your hand isn’t moving. You don’t know if he could even save you now, anyway. You let out a final breath and pass out in the snow.

———

[CONTINUE]

———

You stop for a second, taking in what just happened to you.

You run a hand over your stomach, feeling the unmarred flesh.

You collapse and let out a muffled scream into the snow.

And Papyrus turns to look at you, confused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [My Tumblr](https://galaxybrownies.tumblr.com)   
>  [ESaaM Ask Blog](https://ask-esaam.tumblr.com/)   
>  [ESaaM Discord](https://discord.gg/y3fWYp9)


	4. When You Follow Papyrus Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You talk with Papyrus. Well, more like he talks with you. You don’t speak much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [My Tumblr](https://galaxybrownies.tumblr.com)   
>  [ESaaM Ask Blog](https://ask-esaam.tumblr.com/)   
>  [ESaaM Discord](https://discord.gg/y3fWYp9)

“WHY ARE YOU SCREAMING LIKE THAT? I HAVE NOT EVEN STABBED YOU YET.” Papyrus glances to the side, a nervous sweat on his forehead. “I MEAN- I HAVE NOT STABBED YOU AND DEFINITELY DO NOT PLAN TO!!!!!!” He quickly stashes the sharpened bone back into the invisible space he had kept it in before, standing awkwardly in the snow as you shake. That had been so abrupt, and then you’d actually physically felt your blood seeping out of you bit by bit. You’d felt… so empty. So drained. You never wanted to experience how it felt to bleed out ever again.

Your stomach churns at the memory. Most of your other deaths had gone too quickly to really sink in, but now that you’d gotten the trauma ball rolling, they were all coming back at you in one tremendous mental breakdown after another. You feel like you might puke. You probably will. And here you were, thinking you were finally becoming desensitized to all of this. You didn’t even know if that was possible for you.

You’re crouched down in the snow, shaking and trying to catch your breath. You’re unnervingly aware of Papyrus’s presence, and you suddenly jolt backwards when you realize just how close you are to your murderer. You scramble backwards in the snow from the confused skeleton, moving backwards fast enough to accidentally ram into a tree.

“NO, SERIOUSLY, WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM??? YOU HAVE SURVIVED EVERYTHING WONDERFULLY SO FAR, I AM ONE-HUNDRED PERCENT SURE THAT YOU WILL DO JUST FINE ON THIS LAST ONE!”

Your breathing is fast and you don’t know if you can escape participating in this last ‘puzzle’. If you tried to use a freebie, would he even accept it? And if you did, would you end up on his plate shortly after? You didn’t know if he killed his food before dismembering them for meat or if he kept them alive while he did it. You didn’t want to be alive to experience that, you don’t know if you could mentally come back from it.

Papyrus creeps ever closer to you, and the panic begins to overwhelm your mind. You detect no trace of pity or mercy in his gaze, just a strange hunger that makes your skin crawl. It was odd having someone look at you like a rare steak.

You remember what happened to you when you first met Sans. When you escaped the blue snow. When you left that restaurant. You remember the magic. If that was all really you, and you could control it, then maybe you could use it enough to leave these people. You really didn’t care so much about progressing, but it was all you really could do in some kind of sick, twisted way.

You try to call on what you really thought was some brand of magic. It had saved you in the past, it couldn’t fail you know. 

After a small block which you quickly break through, the magic comes flooding out, pooling easily in your hands. Every bit that leaves you gives you a bit more of a migraine, and you wince as your magic bubbles and sparks in your hands. This felt as natural as breathing, like you were finally flexing a muscle you’d been born with but were unable to use until now. 

Papyrus glances down at your hands, then back up at you, tilting his head to the side in thought.

“WELL THAT IS CERTAINLY INTERESTING!” Papyrus comments. “HOW ARE YOU DOING THAT ANYWAY?? I STILL HAVE TO USE MY STORED BONE ATTACKS FROM BEFORE BECAUSE OF HOW LOW THE MAGIC LEVELS ARE. IF I COULD MAKE NEW ONES THERE WOULD BE MUCH BETTER PUZZLES TO DO.”

He stoops down over you, and you feel your magic reflexively do _something_. Your hand closes around a warm leather grip on instinct, as if you’d been born to hold it. You open your eyes hesitantly, and look at what you’ve made.

It’s a knife.

The metal is almost squiggly, weirdly enough, and the whole unit gives off a faint red glow. You think you’ve seen this kind of knife before, up above. You’re pretty sure that it’s called a kris knife, but how were you holding one now? You had never owned one, much less packed one for your trip up the mountain.

Papyrus jerks back up to a stand at the materialization of your weapon. “WOWIE! YOU NEARLY IMPALED ME JUST NOW! I SUPPOSE THAT IS ONLY FAIR, THOUGH.” He reaches his hand out to the side and grabs the sharpened bone from nothing. “I WAS GOING TO DO THE SAME THING.”

Papyrus smiles.

Papyrus swings.

You flinch, raising your arms up to block the attack out of reflex. The two weapons meet each other in the air, and Papyrus’s bone attack shatters into pieces. After the final piece disintegrates into the snow, he looks back at you mingled shock and anger.

“I CAN’T MAKE ANOTHER ONE OF THOSE, YOU KNOW!” Papyrus shouts in distress. “THAT WAS VERY IMPOLITE OF YOU! I AM GOING TO HAVE TO RETRIEVE ANOTHER ONE FROM THE BOX IN MY BEDROOM!” 

You weren’t really all that sorry. He was going to stab you.

“NEVERTHELESS… I THINK YOU SOLVED MY PUZZLE??” Papyrus speculates, glancing at your knife. “I DID NOT KNOW HUMANS COULD DO MAGIC. OF COURSE, THEY NORMALLY DIE BEFORE THEY CAN SHOW ME, SO WHAT DO I KNOW?”

You shrug, gripping the handle of your knife tighter. You didn’t want to be caught off guard.

“HOW ARE YOU USING IT ANYWAYS? I CAN HARDLY MAKE A SMALL PATCH OF BONES WITHOUT FALLING DOWN,” Papyrus scowls. “IT WOULD BE MY LUCK THAT SANS IS SMALL ENOUGH TO HAVE SOME CALIBER OF EXCESS MAGIC.”

You didn’t understand anything he was saying. Excess magic? Falling down? you felt like you were in a foreign country trying to learn the language. Maybe in a way, you sort of were.

Papyrus starts marching back to the main path of the town, before turning back to look at you. “ARE YOU COMING OR WHAT?”

You blink in surprise before nodding frantically and quickly touching the star to save where you were. You didn’t want to do all that again.

[HP RESTORED]

[NO NAME FOUND]

[FILE 1 SAVED]

You breathe a sigh of relief and rush to Papyrus, making sure to keep several paces away from him as you walk. You didn’t want to give him the ability to catch you off guard again.

You glance up at Papyrus with the silent question of where he was taking you. It’s a few moments before he responds.

“MY HOUSE. YOU PASSED ALL OF MY PUZZLES, SO I GUESS I MIGHT NOT KILL YOU YET.” He shrugs, continuing to walk. “YOU OWE ME ANOTHER BONE ATTACK, HUMAN.”

The ‘yet’ slightly worried you, but you knew better than to look a gift horse in the mouth. He wasn’t going to kill you at present time, as far as he’d told you. You take a moment to calm your breathing. You didn’t seem to be in direct danger at the moment, but you keep a hold of the knife you’d created.

How did you even do that? If you had some kind of magic power, you would have thought that you would have shown some sign of them when you were up above. Despite that, you can’t remember doing _anything_ like you were doing currently. Teleporting, moving things without touching them, making things disappear, and finally… this knife? You don’t know why you’re questioning anything anymore, to be honest. This was probably the weirdest day you’d ever experienced, at this point you should probably just accept things as they come at you.

“WHY DO YOU NEVER TALK? LIKE EVER.” Papyrus huffs. “NOT EVEN AN ‘OH MY GOD PLEASE DON’T KILL ME’. KIND OF DISAPPOINTING TO BE HONEST.”

You shrug, continuing to walk with him a couple paces away. You didn’t really talk much in the first place, and definitely not with people you didn’t know. The fact that he and his brother were technically your murderers several times over didn’t help matters much. You should probably be freaking out about that more, but you supposed it was kind of difficult to care when you knew that your death wouldn’t stick. You’d just try again. And again. 

And again.

“I… HONESTLY HAVE NO IDEA HOW LONG I WILL KEEP YOU ALIVE. WHAT WAS THAT LINE FROM THAT ONE HUMAN MOVIE? ‘GOOD NIGHT WESLEY, SLEEP WELL. I’LL MOST LIKELY KILL YOU IN THE MORNING’?” Papyrus thinks it over for a second. “YEAH, THAT.”

He’s seen The Princess Bride? That was one of your favorite movies. You wondered if he still had it, and if he did, if he would let you watch it during the timespan where he wasn’t going to kill you. That would be a good send off, at least. That is, if you were actually allowed to die for once.

“JUST STAY AWAY FROM SANS FOR A WHILE. HE PROBABLY WON’T TAKE VERY WELL TO YOU BEING ALLOWED TO LIVE FOR A BIT.”

At least Papyrus seemed to have some morals. He didn’t really seem the type to betray someone if he’d already told them that he’d let them live.

“FAIR WARNING, THERE MOST LIKELY WILL NOT BE MUCH TO EAT. AND IF THERE IS, MY BROTHER WILL INSIST I EAT FIRST. TO BE FAIR, YOU WERE GOING TO FEED ME AND THE TOWN FOR A COUPLE WEEKS. BLAME YOURSELF FOR BEING SO STUBBORN ABOUT DEATH.”

Sans had said something about meals being hard to find down here. You could do with your fair share of hungry, you’d be fine. It wasn’t like you could starve to death anyway, at least not permanently.

Also… him and the town? Did Sans not eat humans? That didn’t make much sense in your opinion, it probably wasn’t even cannibalism for him. It wasn’t like you wanted to be eaten, but goshdarnit, you demanded consistency in your bloodthirsty skeletons. 

You were sure he had his reasons.

Papyrus finally stops in front of a tall log cabin. There’s a tattered Jolly Roger flag staked in the roof, fluttering weakly in the breeze. Pinned on the door and roof in various places are strings of Christmas lights, but they aren’t turned on. Maybe they were broken. The front door sports a wreath-shaped imprint, like there had been a wreath there for years until it was taken down or stolen.

“HERE WE ARE!” Papyrus exclaims, rummaging through that invisible space once more to pull out a key ring. He flips through the keys until he comes across a bronze colored one, and unlocks the house. “HOME SWEET HOME.”

You can’t tell if that last bit was sarcasm or not, he was genuinely very convincing when it came to things like that. If it was sarcasm, you honestly couldn’t see why. Your first impression of the house as you follow Papyrus into the living room is that the place seems very out together. When contrasted with the bar you’d spent a few minutes in, which was cluttered and almost trashed, his home seemed actually quite quaint. The smell of lemon cleaning solution permeates the air, and you take a deep breath in. That was a nice change after the moldy, damp smell outside.

You hoped you got to stay here a while. When he wasn’t actively trying to murder you, Papyrus seemed pretty nice. They jury was still out on his brother, though. 

“I AM NOT REALLY SURE HOW TO WELCOME A HUMAN INTO MY HOUSE, IT HAS BEEN QUITE A LONG TIME…” Papyrus speculates, hand on his chin. “I GUESS JUST… DO NOT TOUCH THE FRIDGE, STAY OUT OF THE SHED, AND KNOCK BEFORE COMING INTO BEDROOMS? YOU CAN SLEEP ON THE COUCH, I GUESS.”

A glance at their faded acid green couch told you that sleeping on it would be about as comfortable as sleeping on a pile of rocks, but you guessed it was better than nothing. You weren’t about to bite the hand that fed you, even if he wasn’t literally going to feed you. You don’t blame him for that. As far as he was concerned, you were the food. You don’t feed food.

“I WILL STAY DOWNSTAIRS WITH YOU UNTIL MY BROTHER COMES BACK SO HE DOES NOT MURDER YOU AS SOON AS HE SEES THAT YOU ARE IN OUR HOUSE.”

You nod, shivering slightly as your body temperature rises to match the heat in the house. You hadn’t realized just how cold you were outside. You supposed the frequent deaths would be an understandable distraction.

Papyrus talks to himself while you get settled, setting your bag down on the couch and rummaging through its contents.

“WHERE AM I GOING TO GET NEW BLUE SNOW?” He mumbles aloud, then turns to you. “OH YEAH, YOU OWE ME MORE OF THAT AS WELL. WHERE DID YOU EVEN PUT IT?”

You shrug, turning back to your backpack. You had a week or so worth of clothing in here. When you hit the bottom, you find something that was probably worth its weight in gold down here. You hadn’t even thought you’d brought food, but apparently you were wrong. You take a deep breath and turn to Papyrus. You wanted to build good will, maybe make this your home if they felt kindly towards you. You didn’t want to risk what was further.

You bequeath upon him a slightly smooshed chocolate chip granola bar. Papyrus glances down at the snack food, then back up at you, then down at the snack food.

He’s snatched it out of your hands before you can blink, but instead of eating it, he stores it in that invisible storage space of his. Maybe he was saving it for his brother, or perhaps he just wanted to save it for later.

When Papyrus speaks again, his voice comes out in a croak. “YOU HAVE THREE WEEKS.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [My Tumblr](https://galaxybrownies.tumblr.com)   
>  [ESaaM Ask Blog](https://ask-esaam.tumblr.com/)   
>  [ESaaM Discord](https://discord.gg/y3fWYp9)


	5. When You Explore The House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You stay alive despite the fact that everyone is trying to violently murder you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [My Tumblr](https://galaxybrownies.tumblr.com)   
>  [ESaaM Ask Blog](https://ask-esaam.tumblr.com/)   
>  [ESaaM Discord](https://discord.gg/y3fWYp9)

You never really dreamed. The uncomfortableness of the couch you were attempting to sleep on didn’t help matters. It felt like rocks being pressed into your skin, but you supposed you couldn’t complain. You were being allowed to stay alive and had a place to sleep.

You aren’t in as good of a mood when you wake up the next morning to find Sans standing over you with an axe.

Your foot reflexively kicks out at him, but never makes contact as he swiftly dodges. Eyes wide and breathing heavy, you scramble off of the couch and back up to the wall next to it. Papyrus promised you three weeks, and you were damn well going to live through them. You were tired of dying.

“c’mon, pal, help a friend out,” he grins. “who said you were allowed in my house anyways?”

You shake your head quickly, glancing up at Papyrus’s bedroom. He had said not to go in… but it was the only room in the house that was   
a: currently unlocked from the outside, and b: able to lock from the inside.

You’d take the risk of being caught in his bedroom over the risk of an axe in your face.

You run upstairs, heart thudding in your chest, fling open the bedroom door, and quickly spin around to slam it shut and lock it. 

You needed to relay Papyrus’s deal to Sans. You could always just say it, but you had a solid reason not to. Your voice, and by extension your lack of using it, was pretty much the only power you had that they couldn’t take. You still weren’t quite sure how to wield your magic properly, or if it would hold up against theirs, so you didn’t consider it a strength.

You rummage through Papyrus’s desk drawers for a sheet of paper and a writing utensil, luckily finding both. You quickly scribble your note out before Sans thinks to teleport inside the room, and shove it under the door. You can hear his foot tapping outside, and the small scrape of metal against drywall when he rests his axe against the wall to pick up your message.

It’s a minute or two before he does anything. You hear the sound of crumpling paper, and the small sound of a paper ball being dropped onto the carpet. You wince, that probably wasn’t good. You’re staying back from the door in case Sans decides it’s a good idea to shove his axe through it. Maybe you could jump out the window by Papyrus’s computer if you had to.

“i don’t believe you.” 

Your heart rate skyrockets when he tries the doorknob, causing it to turn back and forth despite being unable to open. You quickly scribble out another note and shove it under the door violently, careful not to let your fingers peek under. You don’t know if he’ll even read this one, but it’s worth a try.

“...you gave us food?”

You let out a small sigh of relief and lean against the wall, finally looking around Papyrus’s bedroom in full. There’s a frankly exorbitant amount of action figures stood up on a bookcase by an old-looking racecar bed. The sheets are tattered and patched, but still look functional. Many of the books on his bookshelf are gathering dust, with the exception of two, which seem squeaky clean. You peek at one of them.

Weird, you wouldn’t have pegged Papyrus as the type to read little kids’ stories. 

“explains why papyrus would offer that…” 

You jump at the sudden sound, turning back to the door. You hear a sigh and another scrape of metal as the axe is picked up, and the trod of footsteps down the hall. A door opens, then slams, and the house is quiet.

You release a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding, and tiptoe over to the door and open it slowly. You peek your head out and look side to side, before swinging it open wider and stepping out. Papyrus wasn’t home. You weren’t sure why, you’d gone to bed the previous night without him telling you where he’d be in the morning. It probably wasn’t your business, anyway. He was planning to have you killed eventually, so it made sense for him to not place much stake in keeping you informed.

Now that you’ve spent a little over a day down here without food, you’re starting to feel the effects. While you normally don’t eat much, probably much less than was healthy, you weren’t immune to the feeling of hunger. You’d survive, at least for a little while. What was the saying? Two minutes without air, two days without water, two weeks without food? You’d be fine for a little while. You knew they weren’t planning on feeding you, and you honestly didn’t want to place that kind of a burden on them if food was really as scarce as you’d heard.

You hurry back downstairs towards the couch before something else can happen to you, like Papyrus coming home to find you halfway in his bedroom. That was the last thing you needed. You didn’t know if Sans was really planning on leaving you alone either, or if he was just trying to lull you into a false sense of security. You could see it either way.

You poke around the living room, taking great effort to stay out of the kitchen. You didn’t want Sans or Papyrus to think you were trying to sneak food. Even worse, you didn’t want to… see anything that might turn your stomach. Surprisingly, you didn’t really judge them all too harshly for their dietary choices. Humans had their own history of cannibalism when the stakes were harsh, and Sans and Papyrus weren’t even the same species as the humans they ate. Could it really be counted as cannibalism?

Either way, you couldn’t blame them for what they ate when times were tough. You’d seen Papyrus’s face when you gave him the granola bar. He looked so… relieved. Touched. You hadn’t known he could look like that, just a little less hungry. You wished you’d brought more food. Maybe the chewing gum you had would be acceptable? You didn’t really want to save it for yourself. You were just some girl who wanted to die anyways. You would feel wrong if you ate food that could be eaten by someone who actually wanted to live.

Their television still worked, but the only channel it would play was an old emergency broadcast from a place called “the capital”. You found yourself flipping through a joke book by the couch. It was funny until suddenly it turned into a book on advanced quantum physics theory. It made your head hurt. You had to put it down.

There was a small table at the end of the room with a miniature plastic tombstone on it. Upon further inspection, you could see that it read “R.I.P. Pet Rock”. You wonder how a rock can die. 

You remember the books you brought in your backpack, as well as your phone. When you’d gone up the mountain, you’d expected to be living up there for good. You’d only decided to die upon coming across that hole in the ground that had seemed to go on, and on, and on, and on

But it hadn’t. And here you were.

You crack open a book.

You’re halfway through when the front door cracks open, before creaking when it fully swings out. Papyrus steps through the door, looking a bit worse for wear but still intact. You don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing for you. On one hand, he was keeping his brother at bay. On the other, he still fully intended to kill you. At least he was the better of two evils.

He takes in the living room before finally focusing on you. He jumps slightly at the sight of you in his house, as if he’d forgotten that he’d allowed his food to live with him for a little while. You don’t blame him. If a talking steak set up shop in your own home, you’d be a little surprised when you came back as well.

“I SEE SANS REFRAINED FROM BRUTALLY MURDERING YOU!” He exclaims, hands clasped. He has a dazed, cheery grin on his face. “GOOD FOR HIM. HE GETS BETTER EVERY DAY!” 

You nod absentmindedly, closing your book to focus more attention on him. It was probably dangerous to not be focused when one of the brothers was in the room. And you hadn’t saved in a while. You don’t know if there’s even one in the house, and you weren’t allowed to go outside. If you died in here, it would really hurt. You didn’t want to redo large chunks of progress at a time, it would just be dull.

“HOW HAVE YOU BEEN?” He doesn’t look as if he much cares about the answer. You don’t know why he would. At your silence, his face stays frozen in the same expression. “STAYING QUIET? AH, WELL! YOU SHOULD PROBABLY SPEAK WHILE YOU STILL CAN. I WOULD, IF I WERE YOU!”

You shake your head, eyes trained on the ground. If you were going to speak, to allow them to hear you, it was going to mean something. 

“OR ARE YOU AFRAID YOU MIGHT ANNOY ME, AND THEN I WOULD KILL YOU?” He sets a brown paper bag on the kitchen counter, and you walk over to watch him from the carpeted entrance. You still didn’t want to set foot in the kitchen. “I MUST TELL YOU, THAT WOULD BE A RATHER FOOLISH POINT OF VIEW, SEEING AS I PLAN ON KILLING YOU EITHER WAY!”

You huff, sitting down on the carpeted floor. That wasn’t it at all, but you suspected he was trying to get you to pipe up and correct him. 

“I AM ACTUALLY VERY CURIOUS ABOUT WHY YOU HUMANS KEEP FALLING DOWN HERE ALL THE TIME. I HAVE NEVER GOTTEN A STRAIGHT ANSWER!”

Dead silence is his reply. You can almost hear the crickets chirping as comedic effect. If it bothers him, he doesn’t say anything as he takes the items out of his brown paper bag and starts putting them away. Looks like cleaning supplies, likely the culprits of the lemon scent the interior of the house carries. Thinking on why the house would need to smell so strongly of cleaning solution makes you queasy, so you stop thinking about it.

“I OFTEN WONDER IF YOU GUYS JUST HAVE A DEATH WISH!” He chirps. “THAT WOULD BE REALLY THE ONLY EXPLANATION FOR WHY YOU FOLKS KEEPING CHUCKING YOURSELVES DOWN HERE! THAT OR YOU JUST DON’T NOTICE THE HUGE GAPING HOLE IN THE GROUND AND TRIP IN!” He pauses for a moment in thought. “PROBABLY THE FORMER.”

That hits a bit too close to home for your liking. You trace patterns in the carpet and bite your lip to keep from replying. He doesn’t seem to notice.

“BASED ON HOW YOU HAVE ACTED, THOUGH I WOULD NOT BE SURPRISED IF IT WAS THE LATTER FOR YOU! IF YOU HAD A DEATH WISH, YOU’D ALREADY BE ON MY PLATE! NYEH HEH HEH!”

If only he knew. It wasn’t like it was your fault that you were still alive. If you were going to by normal standards, you were dead back at the first ‘puzzle’. You don’t know what cosmic force decided you should live, decided you should have these powers you seemed to have. You don’t know if you appreciate those gifts or wish they were never given.

“AND ANYWAYS, THE BODIES ARE ALWAYS-... ARE YOU FEELING ALRIGHT?”

Why does he even care? 

Why did it even matter.

You’d die and you’d die and you’d die, but nothing would change. You were forced to make it out of here alive. You hated this, you just wanted an end, one way or another. You’d die or you’d live, but this circle of repeating events was straining.

Papyrus finishes putting the cleaning supplies away, and pulls himself up to full height. He crumples the bag up and tosses it into the trash bin, turning to regard you fully.

“I KNOW I PLAN ON KILLING YOU IN THREE WEEKS, BUT THERE IS NO REASON FOR YOU TO WALLOW IN MISERY DURING THIS TIME!”

You don’t say anything. You remember your chewing gum in your bag and crawl over to take it out. It’s a small green package, only missing one stick of the mint-flavored gum. You hand it to Papyrus.

“OH.” He seems a little surprised at the small box of gum that was now in his hand. “THANK YOU.”

He puts it away in a kitchen drawer, turning back to you. “ANOTHER WEEK, I SUPPOSE. BUT WHY WOULD YOU GIVE THIS TO ME? I HAVE DONE NOTHING BUT TRY TO MURDER YOU.”

You give him a small smile, a quiet humming noise in the back of your throat. 

“...YOU DID NOT COME DOWN HERE TO LIVE, DID YOU?” Papyrus asks, fidgeting with his hands. “I WAS RIGHT… WASN’T I?”

You nod slowly. Your voice is hoarse when you reply.

“I want to die.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [My Tumblr](https://galaxybrownies.tumblr.com)   
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>  [ESaaM Discord](https://discord.gg/y3fWYp9)


	6. When You Have A Job To Do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Papyrus wants to you make yourself useful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings in end notes.  
> A little bit shorter chapter today.
> 
> [My Tumblr](https://galaxybrownies.tumblr.com)   
>  [ESaaM Ask Blog](https://ask-esaam.tumblr.com/)   
>  [ESaaM Discord](https://discord.gg/y3fWYp9)

Papyrus winces. “YOU DO?” 

It must be weird for him, you can understand. It was probably better to get it out now so he wouldn’t waste supplies on you to keep you alive for the month he’d promised.

You nod hesitantly. “That’s why I’m down here in the first place… you were right.”

“WHY… WHY WOULD YOU BOTHER TO SOLVE MY PUZZLES, THEN?”

You stop the think about your response before you say it. “Have you ever tried to die? It’s scarier than you think. Even if you want to, your body just kind of locks up and stops you from doing it when you have the opportunity.” You pause before adding in another thought. “Unless you’ve really hit rock bottom.”

“I MEAN IF THERE WAS ANY TIME TO HIT ROCK BOTTOM IT’S PROBABLY NOW.” Papyrus frowns. “YOU _LITERALLY_ HIT ROCK BOTTOM, NYEH HEH… HEH.”

Despite the grim circumstances, you can’t help but burst out into snorting laughter at that one. Papyrus glances to the side at the sound. He looks upset, but you don’t ask why.

Now that you’ve broken your silence, you don’t see the point in staying quiet when you have so many questions.

“Where were you today?”

Papyrus seems surprised by your questioning, but answers anyway. “I WAS AT WORK.”

“What’s your work?”

This, at least, brings a hint of a grin on Papyrus’s face. “I AM A ROYAL GUARD! BESIDES THE QUEEN, I’M PRETTY CERTAIN I WOULD BE CONSIDERED THE CAPTAIN.”

“Pretty certain?”

“THE QUEEN IS VERY…” Papyrus makes a face. “ _ENERGETIC_. I WAS ALSO CHECKING FOR HUMANS.”

You nod quietly. “I actually… don’t judge you for what you eat.”

Papyrus glares at you. “I DON’T THINK IT MATTERS EITHER WAY, DOES IT?”

“I… guess not.” You fidget with your hands, standing awkwardly in the junction between the kitchen and the living room. 

“IF YOU DO NOT CARE, AS YOU JUST SAID YOU DID,” Papyrus reasons, “THEN YOU CAN HELP ME MAKE DINNER.”

You back up, startled. “I- what, I don’t-”

“YOU SAID YOU DIDN’T CARE. I WILL NOT MAKE YOU EAT ANY. AND SANS REFUSES TO EAT HUMAN, ANYWAYS, SO IT’S JUST MY MEAL.”

“I- I-”

“YOU WANT TO PROVE YOURSELF USEFUL, YES?” Papyrus questions, and you stare at him in utter dismay. “IT WOULD BE INCREDIBLY USEFUL FOR YOU TO HAVE ALREADY PUT DINNER ON THE TABLE BY THE TIME I GET HOME. IT WOULD GIVE ME MORE TIME TO FIND FOOD FOR SANS.”

You grit your teeth, staring at the stripe-patterned carpet. You were going to have to do this whether you liked it or not, weren’t you? You were going to have to _cook_ human meat.

You’re still staring at the ground stubbornly when you answer. “F-fine. Teach me how to cook.”

Papyrus claps his hands together in excitement. “WONDERFUL! THAT WAS A SMART CHOICE!”  
He turns on his heel to reenter the kitchen. “FOLLOW ME.”

He leads you past an abnormally high sink to his fridge, which is covered in a dried blood stains. The patchiness makes you think that they’ve been furiously scrubbed with cleaning solutions. It must be hard to get blood out of white surfaces with the textured grip of his fridge. Papyrus doesn’t hesitate to pull on the orange-brown stained handle and show you the contents.

Your stomach flips and tugs on your guts at the sight of the inside of the fridge. Tupperware upon Tupperware of raw meat stacked on each other fill the fridge. The Tupperware are full to bursting. Some of them drip a nearly clear mixture of blood and plasma. If it wasn’t for the context of your situation, the meat wouldn’t affect you. It looked remarkably like steak, and you’d heard it tastes like chicken. Knowing where the meat came from changed it completely.

Those tupperwares were filled with people. People who had lives, memories, relationships, experiences. You can’t distract yourself from it, distance yourself from it. You’re fully aware of that fact when Papyrus pulls a Tupperware from the top and hands it to you. You nearly drop the container in abject horror, but steady your fumbling in fear of the skeleton in front of you.

“LOVELY! YOU DIDN’T EVEN DROP IT! YOU ARE DOING BETTER THAN I EXPECTED, HUMAN!” Papyrus glances back at you. “DO YOU HAVE A NAME, BY THE WAY? NORMALLY I WOULD NOT ASK, BECAUSE OF…” he gestures to the Tupperware, “YOU KNOW WHY. BUT IT SEEMS AS IF YOU MAY BE STICKING AROUND LONGER THAN I THOUGHT!”

You don’t answer. Any hunger you may have felt has fully evaporated at the bloody chunks of meat you’re currently holding. You can _smell_ it. The liquid from the container is dripping closer to your hands, so you adjust your grip to move them out of the way. Even if you were handling all of this well, touching the substance would be entirely too much for you today.

Shaking, you look up at Papyrus. “W-what next?” You didn’t seem to have much of a choice but to do this, even if you chose to die you’d just end up back here again. And again. And again. You really had to do this. You can feel saliva pooling in the back of your throat, a queasy feeling in your stomach and the roof of your mouth. If you kept this up, you were going to puke.

“ALRIGHT! NEXT, WE DISH IT OUT ONTO A LARGE BAKING SHEET! WE ARE MAKING SPAGHETTI AND MEATBALLS TONIGHT!”

You choke back bile as you do what you were asked to do. You peel back the lid, cringing at the mucousy film that clung from the meat to the lid, and place it on the counter. You glance up at Papyrus. Did he expect you to touch it with your bare hands?

He doesn’t do anything but smile encouragingly. You guess so.

You… you grab a neatly sliced chunk of meat. 

It feels slimy. It feels raw.

You place it quickly onto a baking sheet Papyrus set out. You glance at your hand, now thinly coated in the mystery substance dripping from the meat.

You take another piece out.

And another.

The smell itself is enough to turn your stomach. Not because it smells weird or abnormal, no. 

Because it smells like food.

You clench your eyes shut and breathe through your mouth, sucking in deep breaths and letting them out slowly. You can still somewhat smell the uncooked meat, but it’s better than before.

You’re left holding an empty Tupperware in your hands, which you place next to the lid as quickly as you can. You look helplessly up at the tall sink, your only savior from the sticky mess coating your hands. It was taller than Papyrus, and he was three heads taller than you, _and_ stooped over. Disgusted, you wipe your hands on your dark jeans. They were dark enough to not show the stains.

“EXCELLENT WORK!” Papyrus praises you. “A LITTLE SLOW, BUT UNDERSTANDABLE! YOU WILL GET USED TO IT.” The certainty of his words sends a chill deep through your spine. “IF YOU KEEP THIS UP, I WILL HAVE REASON TO KEEP YOU AROUND!”

You nod mindlessly, unable to tear your eyes away from the tray of meat in front of you.

“HAVE YOU EVER MADE MEATBALLS BEFORE?”

You shake your head, unable to form the words to respond. Your hands feel dirty. You want to scratch at your skin until it’s raw and bleeding and that feeling goes away.

“OKAY! I WILL SHOW YOU.”

Papyrus tears a chunk out of the meat, and begins kneading it into a ball with his bare hands. You don’t know how he does it, it’s not ground or anything. You think meat has to be ground before it can be shaped into a meatball, but you aren’t sure.

“A LITTLE MAGIC AND YOU CAN SHAPE IT INTO A SPHERE! SEE?”

He extends his palm to show you the ball of human meat. Your stomach turns again. You might actually throw up at this point, but you force it down. With how things were down here food-wise, he probably wouldn’t take puking well, as wasted food.

You nod, barely able to breath with how hard you’re shaking as you reach out, grip the end of the chunk Papyrus had started on, and tear off a piece.

You dry heave quietly, desperately trying not to let Papyrus see you. You force yourself to stop. It’s just steak. _It’sjuststeakitsjuststeakitsjuststea kITSJUSTSTEAK_.

It’s just. Steak.

You allow magic to flow through your fingertips, like when you summoned your blade. It enters the meat, evenly dispersing. To your surprise, it immediately begins to bend under your fingertips, holding a similar consistency to wet clay. You look up at the ceiling, trying to envision that you’re just sculpting something. You aren’t even cooking. You’re making a clay ball. You don’t know why you’d make a ball out of clay, especially considering that you’ve never sculpted in your life, but it works a little. 

It’s a pattern. Grab, tear, magic, shape. Over and over and over until you lose track of time due to the monotony. You forget it’s even human meat for a little bit.

When you reach out to grab another piece, and your hand skims the bottom of the plastic Tupperware, you finally look down from the ceiling. You were done. Several lumpy balls of meat are lined up in front of you. 

You glance over at Papyrus, who seems to be daydreaming. You nudge his elbow, and he blinks rapidly and looks down at you, then at your work.

“OH!” Papyrus exclaims, “YOU DID IT! I WAS ENTIRELY EXPECTING YOU TO GIVE UP COMPLETELY, GIVING ME OPPORTUNITY TO KILL YOU! THIS IS A WONDERFUL SURPRISE!”

You slump on the countertop, emotionally exhausted. Papyrus picks up the tray and carries it to his oven, where he sets the temperature and closes the door. 

“YOU LOOK TIRED. I CAN DO THE REST FOR TONIGHT. I WILL LEAVE YOU A NOTE DETAILING THE TEMPERATURES AND TIMES FOR THE OVEN, AND THE REST OF THE STEPS TOMORROW. I EXPECT FOOD ON THE TABLE BY 7:00.” Papyrus smiles at you. “IF YOU CAN GET THIS DONE, I WILL TENTATIVELY ALLOW YOU TO LIVE. UNDERSTAND?”

You nod, meeting his eyes. 

“I’ll… I’ll starve to death before long, won’t I?”

Papyrus considers you for a second. “I SUPPOSE YOU WILL! WE WILL, AS THEY SAY, ‘CROSS THAT BRIDGE WHEN WE GET TO IT’, OR SOMETHING LIKE THAT. MAYBE YOU CAN HELP ACQUIRE MORE FOOD. THAT WOULD MAKE YOU WORTH FEEDING. FOR NOW, GO TO BED.”

You nod, not having any energy to do much else. You trudge out of the kitchen and lay down on the couch, careful not to collapse on it due to its lack of plushness. You’d end up with bruises if you did that.

Despite how uncomfortable the couch was, you find your eyelids shutting almost immediately. You were stressed and horrified and completely mentally exhausted. You didn’t even want to consider the implications of what you’d done today, what you’d seen. You drift off fairly quickly into dreamless sleep.

You wake up to the sound of clattering dishes. Sitting up quickly, you swivel in your spot to see Sans and Papyrus at their dining table. They look… happy.

They’re having light conversation about something or other, you don’t really care enough to make an effort to make it out. Papyrus says something that makes Sans laugh, and Papyrus laughs in return.

Sans is eating your granola bar, and has two sticks of gum on his plate. You wonder how long it’s been since he’s eaten anything. You wonder why he doesn’t eat human, like his brother.

Papyrus is actually eating fairly neatly. You don’t know why that’s a surprise to you, but it is. Something about him eating other sentient life made you think he’d eat like some kind of savage, all slurping noises and ‘spaghetti sauce’ covering his face and hands and shirt. But he isn’t. You don’t know what to think about it.

The quiet familial moment tells you something you didn’t know you were quite ready to accept.

They’re just… living. Just trying to stay alive.

They aren’t monsters, in the insulting sense, or terrible creatures from the depths who live only to murder people in increasingly horrific ways.

They were just people.

Just. People.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: The human cooks her fellow humans, graphic descriptions of human meat.
> 
> [My Tumblr](https://galaxybrownies.tumblr.com)   
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	7. When You Do A Favor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Papyrus needs you to do a job for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [My Tumblr](https://galaxybrownies.tumblr.com)   
>  [ESaaM Ask Blog](https://ask-esaam.tumblr.com/)   
>  [ESaaM Discord](https://discord.gg/y3fWYp9)

You fall into a routine. A routine that ensures that you’ll be kept alive, but a routine nonetheless. Your routine goes as follows.

You wake up to see Papyrus up at some ungodly time in the morning, then go back to bed for a couple more hours of sleep, then wake up for real. Then you socialize with Sans if he bothers to leave his room. He doesn’t talk all that much, at least not to you. You think he’s angry.

If Sans stays in his room, you try and get a signal on the TV, instead, and if you succeed, you watch some kind of chipped and cracked robot sing show tunes. Despite everything else here, he’s a spot of cheeriness that allows you to see what it might have been like down here before.

You try to make some sense of the joke book/quantum physics book/joke book, but always end up with a stinging headache and the feeling that you were forgetting something. Oh well, it probably wasn’t all that important, anyways. You put the book down and focus on something else.

You’re actually starting to get really hungry, now. You gets waves of dizziness and nausea when you stand up, and splitting headaches at random intervals. You’re freezing all the time despite the magic heating this house seemed to have. Despite what you cook every day, your feeling of revulsion lessens more and more with every meal you prepare, which inversely skyrockets your sense of guilt. You should feel bad, like the most monstrous human being on the planet, right? 

Either way, as your revulsion fades away, you find your sense of hunger coming back. Hunger didn’t care about morals, it just demanded that you _eat something right now_ , and that was that.

You waste your time away this way for the rest of the day, then begin cooking an hour or so before Papyrus is scheduled to get home. He seems to eat human-spaghetti, or, as he calls it, ‘crooked spaghetti’ every day. It’s a little strange. Maybe the noodles were the one thing he was able to find down here. 

Then he eats, and tries to scrounge something up for his brother to eat, and you go to sleep. And that is how most of your days down here go. It’s getting harder for you to sleep, with the gnawing pit in your stomach, and the sounds of forks scraping against plates and chewing and swallowing that come from the dinner. You have to clench your eyes shut and remind yourself exactly what Papyrus is eating to lessen the sting even partially. It’s starting to stop working.

One day, the routine breaks.

“HUMAN!” Papyrus interrupts you as you’re about to go back to bed after seeing him off to work. You crane your neck up to look at him. “I NEED YOU TO ACCOMPANY ME TODAY.”

That surprises you. You’ve only been down here for a week and a half, but you were so set in your schedule that any change was a welcome surprise.

“O-okay. Yeah.”

Papyrus beams. He always looked so much less scary when he did that. For a second, you think you can imagine the kind of person he used to be. Then the expression fades and he’s back to his usual self. “GREAT! COME ON, THEN.”

As he walks you to where he needs you to be, he fills you in on the situation. A human fell down, an adult man, and he ran into the forest as soon as he caught sight of Papyrus. Apparently he came out of a place called “The Ruins”? Sounds old. 

“AND YOU CAN HELP ME!”

You suddenly feel sick to your stomach at the thought of what helping him would entail, but you push it down. “H-how?”

“HE DOES NOT TRUST ME, OBVIOUSLY. BUT!! YOU ARE A HUMAN. YOU CAN GO INTO THE FOREST, PRETEND TO BEFRIEND HIM, AND LURE HIM OUT HERE! IT’S SO SIMPLE, EVEN I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, COULD DO I-”

“-No!” You exclaim, horrified. He wanted you to be actively complicit in another person’s murder. To draw him out of his hiding spot so Papyrus could kill and eat him. That was how you hunted for animals, not how you treated a human. Then again, you don’t know if Papyrus sees the two as different. Were you just some sort of… sentient house cat to him?

“NO? WELL, I SUPPOSE I COULD TAKE YOU BACK TO THE HOUSE, AND YOU CAN STARVE TO DEATH.”

Those were your two options? Betray your own species or starve to death? You can’t say you never had a better choice than that.

“I…” you feel lost. If you chose death, it wouldn’t actually mean anything. You’d end up back here somewhere, made to make the same choice over again and again until you chose to help Papyrus with this. You knew what you had to do but it was such a far cry from who you were that it confused you when the words left your mouth. “F-fine.”

“OH, LOVELY. SO HE RAN INTO THE FOREST JUST OVER HERE,” he explains, marching forward to the treeline. He spits something on the ground and bends down to show you. “SEE? FOOTPRINTS. SNOW IS REALLY HANDY FOR SPOTTING THINGS LIKE THAT.”

“Y-yeah.”

“SO, IN YOU GO!” Papyrus exclaims, gently pushing you into the forest. You dig your heels into the snow, but he’s too strong for you to stop. “BE CAREFUL OF LOUD GROWLING NOISES, THOSE DEFINITELY ARE NOT GOOD. AND NEVER LOOK BEHIND YOU, THAT ALSO IS NOT GOOD.”

Before you can ask why, you’ve toppled over face first into the forest. When you swivel back to look at the path you just left, Papyrus is nowhere to be seen.

That was an excellent sign, wasn’t it?

It’s somehow substantially colder in the forest than out on the path. Your thin jacket, the only one you brought, isn’t really enough to keep you warm. You shiver.

Time to find a human, you guess. The tracks behind you are somewhat scuffled by you dragging your heels through them, but the ones in front of you are pretty clear. Every step you take drags your spirit down even further. You feel your sins crawling on your back when you take the time to make sure that the human didn’t double back to try and confuse whoever was pursuing him.

You felt like a murderer, and you weren’t even doing the killing. 

Another step breaks a small branch under your foot, and you cringe at the sudden noise. That flower had said the forest was dangerous, and with Papyrus’s warning, you were feeling incredibly on edge.

You keep following the footprints. It’s getting hard to walk, your immense hunger making you sway with every other step and making you faintly dizzy. You were expending far more energy than you had in your body, and you didn’t have much.

Until, suddenly, the tracks stop.

They stop, and there’s no human to be found.

You should probably go back and recheck to make sure they didn’t double back, there was no way they could-

A ball of snow hits your head, and you look up at the tree you’re standing next to. There’s a human man sitting in the branches, scooping snow from one of them to form another ball. You lean to the side to avoid the second one.

“You okay up there?” You call up the tree. You feel guilt and shame and self hatred bubbling to a boil in your stomach. This wasn’t right. It wasn’t. 

But you were going to do it anyway.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Had to run from that freaky skeleton thing. Have you seen him? Jeez, I thought humans were weird.” Rude.

You laugh. “Yeah, I saw him. I ran also, but I think he’s gone now. I know a safe place to hide if you’ll follow me!” You haven’t acted this much since you had to lie to your mom about where you were going when you climbed this mountain. You don’t regret leaving them.

He nods, quickly climbing down from the tree to the level where he can just drop onto the snow. He used you to steady himself, but quickly pulls away. He holds a hand out, which you stare blankly at before shaking. You don’t know how you’re able to look him in the eye when you know what you’re leading him into.

“I’m Chris. What’s your name?”

You flinch. “Don’t… don’t bother with all that.”

He looks at you like you’ve grown another head, but relents, releasing your hand. “Alright, I guess. Lead the way.”

He tries to chat with you about how weird everything is down here while you walk back, but you don’t say much. Don’t get attached. He’ll be… he’ll be gone soon enough.

“-and then the goat lady was throwing _fireballs_ at me, so I-”

A loud growl reverberates through the forest. You tense up, breathing quick. You were still following the tracks, but you had a substantial distance left before you were back where Papyrus dropped you off. Your breath catches in your throat, and you lock eyes with Chris.

“Run.” The sound barely escapes your throat in your fear, but you manage to grab his arm when he doesn’t move as quickly as you’d like, and drag him through the trees.

You’re running faster than you’ve ever run in your life, adrenaline pumping through your veins like the blood that kept you alive. Your breathing starts to burn in your chest until it feels like it’s flames licking at your lungs and turning them to ash. You don’t stop moving, and you don’t let go of the death grip on Chris’s arm. If you lost him, you don’t know what you’d face when you got back.

Another growl roars through the trees, and it sounds closer this time. Another, quieter and farther roar resounds from the other side of you. Great, they’re collaborating.

You wonder if you can do that thing again. You hadn’t really meant to do it in the first place, teleporting outside of the restaurant Papyrus shoved you into, but maybe you could do it again. The growls and roars are getting louder, getting closer. More join them every second.

You close your eyes, hold your breath…

And _tear_ a hole in space-time. It’s jagged and ripped along the edges but it will do, so you step inside and drag Chris with you. The gash in the universe seals itself up on its own. 

It’s dark. It’s so dark that you can’t even perceive it, darker than the darkest black you’ve ever perceived, the kind of darkness that just went on and on and on and on and on andonandonandonandon _andonandon_

And on.

It’s cold. It’s _ruthlessly_ cold, a chill that saps your thoughts away and makes them mush and you can’t think and you can’t move and it’s just so _cold_ and

You don’t think the human mind was meant to perceive this, to even begin to comprehend the endless darkness, the abyss that stretched on for truly infinity and yet for nothing at all. You existed and didn’t exist, you understood and you were hopelessly, hopelessly lost and confused. This duality was never meant to be witnessed. You will fry your brain if you stay here any longer.

You gather your strength to tear a hole in the inky black and it’s so much more difficult than last time, the fabric of this place refuses to rip away from itself and the black is sticking to you, leaving gooey tendrils on your skin and your clothes.

With a final push, the darkness tears, and you tumble out of The Void, clutching onto Chris’s arm tightly enough to cut him with your fingernails. You don’t know how you know that it’s called The Void. You don’t know anything about any of this.

Now that you think about it, you can’t remember anything that just happened to you. There’s black gunk all over your clothing and the snow, but it quickly dissolves before your eyes. Huh. That was weird, you can’t remember what you were just thinking about.

It probably wasn’t important, anyway. You’d certainly remember, if it was important.

“What the _fuck_ just happened?” Chris is on his hands and knees on the snow, coughing up some kind of inky black substance that you’ve never seen before. How did he get that in his lungs? Must be a smoker.

“What are you talking about?” You tilt your head to the side. He was acting weird. You’d just run away from the dogs, nothing strange had happened. “Is this really important?”

His expression immediately shifts to a glassier gaze. He regards you with an almost fuzzy look on his face. “No, I guess not. I don’t know why I cared in the first place.”

You nod. Good to know you were on the same page. You stand up, wiping the snow on your hands onto your jeans. You try not to think about what else you’ve wiped on your jeans, trying to stay alive. You look around you.

You’re back on the pathway where Papyrus shoved you into the forest, except you can’t see him anywhere. You want Chris out of your hands and out of your sight, so you can nurse this crushing guilt in private. You can’t believe you’ve fallen this far in a little over a week.

“C’mon, this way,” you gesture. Probably best to bring him to the house if you couldn’t find Papyrus. You know the way back, it’s kind of hard to lose your way down here when everything follows one straight line.

You barely take a step forward before you hear a resounding crack and the sound of something crumpling into the snow from Chris’s direction. You pivot on your heel, heart in your throat and the buzz of magic in your hands, ready to form a knife.

It’s Papyrus, holding a now blood splattered bone club over the unconscious, bleeding form of Chris.

“HUMAN, YOU MADE IT OUT ALIVE!” He looks genuinely pleased. “I KNEW I PUT MY FAITH IN THE RIGHT PERSON!”

You gape dumbfoundedly at what was probably becoming a corpse in the snow. “You- uh… you just-”

Papyrus glances at his bone club like he forgot he was holding it, then sheepishly throws it in a spin up into the air, where it dissipates. “YES, WELL… I COULD NOT EXACTLY USE MY MAGIC. PRE-FORMED BONE ATTACKS ARE THE ONLY WAY TO GO ANYMORE.”

“Why’s- why’s that?

Papyrus looks at you in suspicion. “THAT IS A STORY FOR ANOTHER DAY.”

You drop your head back towards the snow, gaze instinctively drawn to Chris’s twitchy, spasming form. Blunt force trauma seemed to be a hell of a way to go. Papyrus seems to notice where you’re looking and speaks again, words laced with annoyance.

“YES, YES, HE’S DEAD. YOU DID VERY WELL! DO YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS?”

You can’t bring yourself to answer. You’re filled with the inescapable feeling of dread and guilt and sadness and so, so much horror at what you’ve done. You led an innocent man to his death, and you did it with a smile on your face. You collapse into the snow, hands gripping your hair like you might tear it out of your scalp. You’re rocking yourself back and forth in a self soothing motion.

What have you done?

“YOU’RE USEFUL!” Papyrus exclaims, apparently deciding you weren’t going to answer. “AND AS LONG AS YOU STAY USEFUL, I WILL KEEP YOU ALIVE. SCOUT’S HONOR.”

_What have you **done?**_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [My Tumblr](https://galaxybrownies.tumblr.com)   
>  [ESaaM Ask Blog](https://ask-esaam.tumblr.com/)   
>  [ESaaM Discord](https://discord.gg/y3fWYp9)


	8. When You Talk With The Brothers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You learn more about the world you’ve fallen into.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [My Tumblr](https://galaxybrownies.tumblr.com)   
>  [ESaaM Ask Blog](https://ask-esaam.tumblr.com/)   
>  [ESaaM Discord](https://discord.gg/y3fWYp9)

You keep doing your job for another half week, until you’re starting to find it difficult to move. You occasionally do your best to help Papyrus as well, but the opportunity to help Sans never arises. Papyrus says he used to get up and help him, like you’d seen when you first fell down, but he’s not because of you. Another thing to feel guilty about.

By the end of the second week finds the worst starvation symptoms for you. You’re losing hair, you feel tired and lethargic, you pass out if you try and stand up. You’re always freezing, warmth impossible to reach as your body doesn’t have enough energy to keep your core temperature up. You feel like you’re going to die.

At least there had been a save star after helping Papyrus kill that man the first time. You would have hated to start completely over, and have to recook your first bout of human flesh. ~~You were at the point of starvation where you’re craving it every time you cook it.~~

“you gonna be dead soon?” Sans asks one morning when you talk to him, and the question sends even more chills up your spine than you already had. You painfully nod. He grunts in response, so you don’t know how he feels about it.  
“you know, you’ve been helpin’ paps. he’ll probably letcha eat now.” 

You shake your head furiously. No. Never. You’d _cooked_ human flesh, you’d helped _kill_ humans to be cooked, but if you let yourself eat someone… you would never forgive yourself. You don’t know if it’s possible to just let yourself ‘slip away’ or if your body would take over at some point and make you eat, but this was the last piece of humanity you had left and you were intending on keeping it.

To your surprise, your gesture earns you a throaty laughing sound. It has hints of a raspy tone to it, and he has his head thrown back and a hand flung over his eyes as he cackles an open mouthed laugh. It’s a sound that makes you simultaneously fear for your life, and feel pleased. You think that’s the first time he’s ever shown a positive emotion in front of you. You can’t help but get a glimpse of who he was before this.

He comes down from the laugh, wiping his eyes as if tears have been brought to them, and chuckles down to silence. “sure, kid.”

His attitude makes you bristle. “I’m not a child.” Any bit of childlike joy you had left was gone. You were an Adult, and that was very clear to you. You don’t know how a child could survive down here, physically or mentally.

He holds a hand up in conversational defense. “no, no, i know.”

“Then why do you call me that?”

A confused looks overtakes his own face. “i… don’t know. habit?”

Sans didn’t seem to know a lot, especially about himself. If you asked him anything, his answer would usually come from what others told him about his own past, or the small fragments he could piece together himself. He had some serious amnesia. He doesn’t tell you why, but you suspect the large gaping hole in his head. Seems like the obvious choice.

You let silence fill the room before you ask your question. Since you’d saved recently, you don’t feel all too insecure about asking. “Why don’t you eat human?”

Sans’s single eyesight dies out, creepy grin still plastered on his face. “i’d say that was none of your business, **h u m a n .** ”

You change positions on the couch, lying on your stomach and facing him. You’ve gotten used to the gravely texture the couch offered, it was better than the floor.

“No, really,” you press. “You let yourself starve even though there’s plenty of…” you shiver, “ _food_ … in the fridge. Why?”

“why do you?”

You frown, taken aback by him turning the question around. “It’s different for me. They’re my actually species.”

“maybe i’m not too fond of eating sapient life, either.” The grin seems forced, eyelight drifting to the side slightly as he says it. Your sense of whether someone was lying or not wasn’t exactly top notch, but it wasn’t terrible either. Sans wasn’t giving you the full truth.

You decide to let it go for now. There was only so much pressing for an answer you were willing to risk. Asking again would only make him mad, and nothing good came when Sans was mad.

“Why do you allow me in your house?”

Sans’s smile grows, but it isn’t in a nice way. “i don’t.”

“But-”

“-the only way i would be happy with you in the house is if you were a meatball on my brother’s plate,” Sans states. “then you’d _**meat**_ my expectations.” He looks at you critically. “papyrus seems to have taken some kind of liking to you. it’ll prob’ly be over sometime within a month or two, and the novelty will wear off. don’t expect an actual life here.”

You don’t.

You sit up again, drawing your knees to your chest and hugging them. You stare at the ratty carpet like you intend to bore a hole in it. “Papyrus mentioned a queen. What’s she like?”

Sans snorts, rolling his singular eyelight. “empress undick is a tyrant. you don’t want to be outside when she makes her rounds.”

“Why not?”

“humans are to be taken right to queen fishface on sight to be executed.”

“Why don’t you? Do that, that is.”

Sans raises a brow at you like he can’t believe how stupid you are. “paps needs food and i hate the queen.”

You guessed that was reason enough. “Why does she want humans anyway?”

Sans laughs maniacally, and even reaches up to wipe pretend tears from his eyes. “pfff, _wow_ , you really don’t know anything.”

You’re on the defensive. “It’s not like humans know about this stuff. I just got down here.”

“wait, really?” Sans asks. “you guys don’t know… anything?”

You reconsider. “Well, there was that creepy kid that crawled out of here six years ago. No one believed their stories. Even seeing all of this… they were still wrong.”

Sans stiffens at mention of the child. He doesn’t say anything.

“They said the people here were overwhelmingly kind. They said… they said that-” you’re putting the dots together. How _stupid_ were you? “-they said that there were skeletons and goat people and a fish lady. That they were kind and didn’t deserve to be stuck down here.” 

You really were a chronic dumbass. It wasn’t like you hadn’t been told that things down here used to be better. The man in the forest had said something about a goat lady trying to kill him, and even Sans had referred to the queen as ‘Queen Fishface’. That only left the skeletons. And you’d already met two, just like in the stories. This whole time you’d been down here you’d assumed that the kid was misremembering, or were traumatized, or just didn’t understand how things were down here, but you’re starting to believe them. 

“How did… how did they get out?”

Sans’s eye twitches. “i’m not here to tell you a bedtime story.” 

“Fair.”

“it’s long and complicated and i am officially done. i’m going to bed.” Before you can argue that it’s only noon, and he’d in fact woken up an hour ago, he disappears.

———

“HUMAN! I HAVE RETURNED FROM MY TIME OUT! DID YOU MISS MY AMAZING FACE AND DASHING PERSONALITY WHILE I WAS GONE?”

“...Sure,” you reply, trying your best to not sound sarcastic. It wasn’t that you didn’t _like_ Papyrus, but you didn't exactly have the highest opinion of him, either. At least he was better than Sans.

“YOU KNOW…” Papyrus speculates, hand on chin, “SANS TEXTED ME WHILE I WAS WORKING. HE SAID YOU ASKED ABOUT THE HUMAN.”

“The kid who came out of the mountain?” You ask. “I saw them on the news. I think their name was ‘Frisk’? They became something of an international oddity.”

“WOWIE! MY GOOD FRIEND ASCENDING TO STARDOM WITHOUT ME!” Papyrus sighs wistfully. “HOW CAN LIFE BE SO CRUEL?” At least he sounds sarcastic.

“You knew them?”

“I DATED THEM!”

If you were drinking water, you’d be spitting it out dramatically at this exact moment. “You _what_?!” They’d been barely thirteen when they got out, certainly not old enough to date this massive drink of water.

“DATED THEM!” Papyrus exclaims. “AH, MEMORIES. THEY HAD SUCH PASSION FOR ME!” He clenches his fist dramatically. “SADLY, I COULD NOT ACCEPT THEIR ADVANCES IN GOOD WILL, FOR I DID NOT FEEL THE SAME ABOUT THEM. WE AGREED TO BE PLATONIC FRIENDS INSTEAD!”

You’re starting to see hints of the bright and bubbly skeleton Frisk had described on live television. You assume Papyrus is who they’re talking about, you hadn’t seen any other skeletons with his personality who claimed to know them. Of course, you hadn’t seen many people down here, anyway. He was supposedly a fan of puzzles and japes, and incredibly kind hearted. You still have trouble seeing past the whole ‘eating your species’ thing, but the described personality is beginning to slide into your perception.

“They talked about you,” you murmur. 

Papyrus’s eye sockets widen. “HOW THOUGHTFUL! NOW IF WE EVER ESCAPE THIS ETERNAL PIT OF SUFFERING, WHICH WE WON’T, I WILL ALREADY HAVE FAME WAITING FOR ME!”

That was kind of… morbid. And sad. “You don’t have any hope of getting out?”

“NOPE!” Papyrus replies cheerfully. “NONE AT ALL!”

“Why’s that?”

“WHY, BECAUSE SANS AND I ARE KILLING ALL THE HUMANS WHO FALL DOWN HERE BEFORE THE QUEEN CAN GET HER HANDS ON THEM!”

“Why does that even… matter?” You feel like you’re missing a big piece of this story, something essential.

“OH! YOU DON’T EVEN KNOW, DO YOU?”

You shake your head. “I don't know anything about life down here.”

“UNDYNE- I MEAN, _QUEEN_ UNDYNE, WANTS YOU FOR YOUR SOUL! AND BY ‘YOU’, I MEAN HUMANS IN GENERAL. SHE DOES NOT KNOW ABOUT YOU.”

“But _why_?”

“SIMPLE! SHE NEEDS SEVEN HUMAN SOULS TO BREAK THE BARRIER TRAPPING US ALL DOWN HERE!”

“...how many humans have you eaten?” If they’ve caused their continued imprisonments themselves, you don’t know you’ll be able to stop yourself from chuckling at the irony.

“SOMETHING AROUND SIXTY THREE!”

“ _You could have freed yourselves nine times over_ ,” you whisper, horrified. “ _And you still chose…_ ”

You look at Papyrus with disgust etched into your face. “You could have left. You could have been a hero.” Harsh words for somebody staring a literal embodiment of death in the eye socket, but you feel you need to say it.

Papyrus narrows his eye sockets at you. “DON’T BLAME ME. IT WAS SANS’S IDEA.”

“But he doesn’t even eat human!” You yell.

“THAT IS BEACAUSE- UM… THERE IS A VERY GOOD REASON FOR THAT AND, UH…” Papyrus sheepishly trails off. “I HAVE NO IDEA.”

“You have no idea?” You echo. “What about Frisk? How did they escape?”

“ ‘ESCAPE’ IS A HARSH WORD CONSIDERING HOW KIND AND HOPEFUL THE UNDERGROUND WAS BACK THEN, COMPARED TO NOW.” Papyrus considers your question. “BUT AS FOR HOW THEY ESCAPED…” he glances at you nervously. “THERE IS MORE THAN ONE WAY TO LEAVE.”

“But I thought you said you needed seven human souls to break the barrier?” 

“WE DO. BUT! ONE CAN STILL LEAVE BY ABSORBING THE SOUL OF THE OTHER SPECIES AND JUST PRANCING OUT!”

“Any human can just… kill someone, grab their soul, and leave?” 

“NO, YOU NEED A SPECIAL KIND OF MONSTER. THERE’S ONLY ONE LEFT, I THINK.” He glances at the side. “I WILL NOT TELL YOU MORE ABOUT THAT PARTICULAR SUBJECT.”

“Understandable.” He probably didn’t want you to try and take their soul for yourself. “So Frisk killed someone? Wow, I wouldn’t have pinned the kid as a murderer.”

“IT APPEARS SO,” Papyrus confirms. “HE WAS THE KING, BUT NOW HE’S NOTHING BUT DUST. SOMEONE TEMPORARILY CAME INTO POWER, BUT THE QUEEN OVERTHREW HER BECAUSE SHE HAD TOO PEACEFUL OF A POLICY, AND THINGS BEGAN TO CHANGE.”

“So Frisk messed everything up?” You ask. “I… don’t think they meant to. They seemed to really miss you guys when they talked about you.”

“THEY COULD HAVE COME BACK AT ANY TIME,” Papyrus says firmly. “THEY COULD HAVE COME BACK, AND I WOULD HAVE MADE SURE THEY WERE SAFE. BUT THEY DID NOT. SO I DO NOT BELIEVE THEY ACTUALLY MISS US AT ALL.”

“That’s not really fair,” you hum. “You can miss someone and still not want to put yourself in jeopardy again. They tried to incite people to come down here and help.” You glance at the kitchen, noticeably enough to Papyrus to catch. “I guess… I guess people did.”

“OH.” Papyrus’s voice suddenly sounds small. You can’t help the laughter bubbling up in the back of your throat. 

“Papyrus,” you say with a choked giggle, “you _ate_ the help.” It’s not funny, god, this really isn’t funny. But you can’t stop laughing. It’s hilarious.

“OH STARS.” He actually looks amused, himself. Another second and he’s laughing as loudly as you are.

You stand, laughing like a maniac with a cannibalistic skeleton, at a joke about eating people who are only trying to help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [My Tumblr](https://galaxybrownies.tumblr.com)   
>  [ESaaM Ask Blog](https://ask-esaam.tumblr.com/)   
>  [ESaaM Discord](https://discord.gg/y3fWYp9)


	9. When You Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [My Tumblr](https://galaxybrownies.tumblr.com)   
>  [ESaaM Ask Blog](https://ask-esaam.tumblr.com/)   
>  [ESaaM Discord](https://discord.gg/y3fWYp9)

“HUMAN, YOU REALLY NEED TO EAT SOMETHING.” Papyrus is direct when he approaches you two days later, fists on hips. “DESPITE MY DIET, IT WOULD ACTUALLY BE A BIT OF A SHAME IF YOU STARVED TO DEATH AT THIS POINT. YOU ARE A GOOD COOK AND ACTUALLY FAIRLY POLITE, FOR A HUMAN.”

You try and fail to push yourself up to a sitting position on the couch. Your arms simply trembled, buckled, and dropped. You knew you were in trouble if you didn’t eat. You shiver, the constant cold you felt a product of starvation.

“I’m. Not. Eating. Human.” Your voice is hoarse in your throat when you talk. You curl into a ball and shake. “Stop asking.”

“YOU WILL EAT OR YOU WILL DIE, IT REALLY IS THAT SIMPLE,” Papyrus states firmly. “BELIEVE ME, IF WE HAD ANOTHER OPTION, I WOULD NOT BE EATING WHAT I DO.”

You stare determinately at the faded carpet. “Then I… I guess I’ll die.” Truth be told, you knew you’d just appear again at your last save, a couple days ago, but at least then you could make a plan. You were too weak to do much of anything right now. You’d cooked it, you’d indirectly killed someone, but you were not going to eat human meat. That was the final line you refused to cross.

You were scared you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself at this point if it was offered to you.

Papyrus doesn’t say anything. He stares at you with a strange, set look in his eye socket, then turns on his heel and leaves the room. You hear a door slam from the second floor, but you don’t waste energy to look up and see which one.

It wasn’t your fault, you tell yourself. It was your stupid body and it’s stupid needs, that was putting you in this situation. It could almost make you laugh, the ridiculousness and horror of where you found yourself. You were shaking, in a skeleton’s house, on the verge of a mental breakdown because you were about to starve to death. And you weren’t even upset about the starving part.

You never would have thought you’d be here, in the cold and the damp and the gore. You just wanted to be Asleep. The kind of sleep you never woke up from. But it seemed death wasn’t in the cards for you, maybe ever. You shake at the thought that even if you survive all of this, even if your circumstances change, you have to die someday. Would everything reset back to this? Would you be stuck in a perpetually dying loop, never able to escape, but also unable to keep your own morals?

Even with the illusion of control your undo-abilities seemed to give you, you really had no choice, about anything. You couldn’t not eat because you’d die and come back, until you finally did. You couldn’t not kill because they’d kill you or you’d starve and you’d come back, until you finally did. You were a prisoner trapped by your own power, held hostage by the cruel threads of fate that held you with an iron grip and told you that you were going to do these things whether you liked it or not.

You felt like screaming, like scratching your scalp and gripping your hair and pulling and pulling until maybe the screaming would stop. Until maybe you’d find peace, one way or another. Until you’d be blissfully unaware and completely happy in the endless black and the crushing cold. The memory of that place taunted you. You never thought you’d crave that cold, dark place.

You shiver. You’d never been given a blanket or a pillow or anything else to sleep on, so you clutch your coat tighter to yourself. You didn’t know how you’d make dinner for Papyrus tonight, you’d nearly collapsed forcing yourself through it yesterday night. You were having trouble moving your limbs at all, they felt as if someone had snuck in the room in the middle of the night and replaced your blood with heavy lead. You were sluggish and tired and your head hurt.

“pap ask you again?”

You jump hard at the sound of Sans’s voice so close to you. Him and his freaky teleportation. Then again, you were probably a bit of a hypocrite for thinking that. 

Your voice is scratchy when you reply. “Yeah…”

You can almost feel Sans’s insane grin curl up against his cheeks like the Cheshire Cat. “so now you understand,” he sing-songs.

“Understand what?”

“what it’s like to be so hungry but be completely unable to eat anything. you do have a choice, you know.”

If only he knew that you didn’t.

You pull your legs up to you so you’re lying in the fetal position and shake your head against the couch cushion. “I don’t.”

“you do~,” he sing-songs again. His voice is annoying. You want him to shut up. “everyone has a choice, kid.”

“I’m not a child.”

“whatever you say.”

“I’m really not. I turned eighteen almost a year ago. I’ll be nineteen in a month.”

“like i said,” Sans sneers. “a kid. you want to live or not? kids are stubborn like you. adults try.”

“What does that make you, then?” You can’t believe yourself to daring to take on such a challenging tone.

“i’m on whichever side keeps my brother fed and alive,” he shrugs. “no matter what he or anyone else wants.”

“...sounds selfish.”

“never said i wasn’t.”

There’s a heavy silence before you speak again. 

“Why don’t you eat human?”

It was a question you asked on occasion. He never really answered, and if he did, it was more of a threat than a conclusion to the question. Every time he dodged the question, you felt more determined to learn the answer.

“tell you what. if you’re still alive in a month, i’ll tell ya.” The look on his face tells you that he fully expects you to be dead by then. “until then… live in mystery.”

He vanishes.

Your head slumps against the pillow, weak heart pounding with the effort of holding your head up long enough to make conversation. Your skin burned and split with your malnutrition and you were so skinny it hurt to look at yourself when you changed clothing. You were so underweight that even when you could stand up, you would sway and your vision would go black for a second or sometimes even two, and you’d have to sit back down to try again. Your stomach was concave beneath your ribs. Ironically, you think to yourself, you’re starting to resemble the skeletons you live with. Your joints hurt to move and if you thought this couch was uncomfortable before, it’s even more so without any fat to cushion your bones against the lumps and bumps in the couch cushions.

Starving sucked.

0/10, worst way to die so far. At least the others had been quick. You didn’t even feel hungry anymore, just empty. And cold. The pain of no food had been at first excruciating, but had completely disappeared after the first week or so. It was like your body just shut off all the pain receptors. Even if you didn’t physically feel hunger, thinking about food made you want to rip apart anything or anyone that stood in your way. You want to go to the fridge and throw it open and grab one of those Tupperware and

You shiver.

No.

You feel nauseous, but there’s nothing in your stomach to get out. Just an uncomfortable acidic feeling bubbling in the base of your gut with no actual action possible.

You knew if you gave in to this, you’d be guaranteed at least a meal a day. Humans fell frequently enough for that, at least. Papyrus has almost too much ~~food~~ meat in the fridge for one person. If Sans wasn’t going to eat it, ever, then…

No, stop thinking about it! You need to stop.

You were not a cannibal.

You simply weren’t.

You refocus on your surroundings in enough time to see someone duck into the kitchen. It’s not long before you hear the unmistakable sound of the fridge opening, and the clatter of pans. Oh, no. Oh, no no no no. You couldn’t be here for this. You didn’t want to hear it sizzle, smell it cook, feel your own mouth water and then want to vomit at how disgusting you were. What was wrong with you? Those were people, with lives and pasts and they didn’t want to die. You had no right… you had no justification for eating them. They wouldn’t have wanted this.

At least you understand why Papyrus does it. Humans weren’t even the same species as he was, and this gnawing, digging hunger shouldn’t be experienced by anybody. Not even him. You’d heard the child who crawled out of the pits of hell and told their story smiling, and you know who he used to be. The optimist, the kindest heart down here. The person who believed in everybody, no matter what. You wonder what happened to him to make him the way he is now.

You can kind of see what Frisk meant, when they described him. Sometimes those old personality traits shone through ever so slightly, and you start to feel that you may have found precisely the person you were supposed to live with down here. Then something would change and something would twist and he was Gone. And the Papyrus you knew was back.

It wasn’t that he was particularly cruel. It wasn’t that he was an awful horrible creature who didn’t deserve to live. It was the completely horrible truth that he was a person who wanted to live, and that was all. And maybe you were a person who wanted to live, too. Maybe you were a person who wanted to die but was forced to try to live anyway. You didn’t know if there was a difference.

You can smell the food cooking, so you stop breathing through your nose. You don’t want this. You distract yourself with thoughts on Sans instead. The kid had described him as the jokester, the guy who pranked himself across time and space. You weren’t exactly sure what that last part meant, but you assumed it had something to do with his teleportation. He was supposed to be kind. He was supposed to be patient, and just. He was supposed to have integrity. Like his brother, you can see it peek through at times. Like when you tell a particularly funny joke and he throws his head back into such an incredibly cheerful laugh, and even a few tears of laughter escape him. 

Sans had been a good monster once, you were sure of it. Sans still has good in him, you’re sure of it. You don’t think you are enough to make him want to be good. Why would you be? You’re just some human. Just their food.

You fall asleep on the topic of food, thinking of cans of soup and chocolate milk and apples and mashed potatoes with gravy on top. You dream of the food taunting you, coming just within reach before darting away like an easily frightened rabbit when you reach out to grab it. You want to feel the apple under your teeth, the crisp juice on your tongue, the feeling of it sliding down your throat and into your stomach and making you alive. But instead it dances out of reach and you’re _so hungry_.

You wake up just as you catch the apple and move to bring it to your mouth. Your teeth are almost touching it when you jolt back into consciousness, feeling wholly and totally disappointed and empty. You could almost taste it on your tongue… but not quite. 

You’re frustrated and starving. 

And dying.

You’re _dying_.

Every now and then your heart falters slightly, a small stutter or a flutter between the beats, and you think you’re done. That it’s finally over, and you can try again with a stronger body. Then it resumes its pace and you feel frustrated. Your breathing is shallow, it takes too much effort and energy that you don’t have to make it better.

You’re dying, and there’s nothing you can do about it.

No, that’s a lie. There’s something. 

When you wake up from your dreams of food, the ‘something’ is on a plate on the floor next to the couch you’re sleeping on.

You jolt backwards, the startling feeling of having human flesh so close to your face enough to push you into a sitting position. Of course, it looks nothing like human flesh. It looks exactly like an ordinary plate of spaghetti and meatballs. That makes it worse. Your mouth is watering and your fingers are twitching. Almost without you, your arm jerks up as if you were going to stoop over and grab the plate, and you stop yourself.

 _No_.

And you were dying.

No.

And you would _keep_ dying.

…

And you were so hungry.

…

And you were so weak. 

… 

And it smelled… so good.

And you don’t know what comes over you when you bend down and grab the plate, almost as if in a trance. You hold the fork placed with it in your hand, spear a meatball and pasta, and put it in your mouth.

And chew it.

Slowly.

And swallow.

And…

And it tasted…

And it tasted **s o g o o d**.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [My Tumblr](https://galaxybrownies.tumblr.com)   
>  [ESaaM Ask Blog](https://ask-esaam.tumblr.com/)   
>  [ESaaM Discord](https://discord.gg/y3fWYp9)


	10. When You Recover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You start to recover from your time of starvation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyyyyy, guess who’s back and ready to start shit!!!
> 
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When the fork clatters against the empty plate, you stop.

You pull yourself back onto the couch. 

You close your eyes.

You’d just eaten… a person.

And even though you knew logically that doing that was bad, very nearly irredeemable, in fact… you couldn’t feel guilty. On the contrary, you felt alive. You felt fed. You felt like all the electricity in the world condensed into a ball in your gut, which was now exploding, filling you with warmth and life and the feeling of no longer being hungry. 

You felt **g o o d**.

Sans finds you two hours later when he comes downstairs, having just woken up at three p.m. and ready to laze around. He glances between you and the plate, which still had stains of gruesome red, turning brown where it dried. His crazed grin grows until he collapses on the couch next to you, absentmindedly tapping on the armrest. He did that a lot, the tapping. You used to find it intimidating, you probably still would if you hadn’t done the things you have. You were different now. Any scrap of who you used to be disappeared when you took the first bite of that pasta. 

You have no idea who you are anymore.

“so.” Sans stares straight forward at his broken television, red eye light pointed to the side in your direction. “can’t help but notice the cleared plate.”

You look at him with dead eyes. He was trying to scare you, or make you upset, or make you cry. You wouldn’t do it. Something inside of you had warped, twisted, shifted, and you didn’t care anymore. 

If he notices your silence, he doesn’t let it bother him. He continues without skipping a beat. “now that you’re a _**humanist**_ , i suppose my brother will be feeding you more often?” He pauses for a moment, seemingly waiting for some retort, before moving on when he doesn’t hear one. “either way, human, i think you’ll be doing a lot more around here. make sure not to take more than your share.” 

The easy way with what he says the last sentence hides a deeper threat, you’re sure, but it doesn’t bother you. You understand.

“Yeah,” you croak, your vocals cords and the strength of your lungs still weak from so long without food. 

You’d get better. You just needed to **e a t** .

Sans looks at you, and you can almost see the cogs spinning in his head as he thinks. “good,” he decides with a gruff tone. “just, um… don’t. hurt anyone. if we don’t tell you to.” With what he’d just said, you’d expect to see a trace of empathy in his expression, but he’s still just staring at you with that crazed, maniacal smile of his. Maybe you should be smiling too.

“Is that it?” You ask with a pedantic tone instead, thoroughly done with Sans at this point. 

He glances at you, taken aback by your confrontational question. “yeah, i guess. you really aren’t as argumentative as most humans that fall down here.”

You quirk an eyebrow. “How so?”

“they’re normally all ‘aaah, please don’t kill me’,” Sans mimics, holding his hands up next to his face in mockery of a scared human, “or ‘oh no, i’ll do anything’ or ‘i’ll kill you’, but you’ve never done that.” He looks at you with something akin to respect. “you’re different.”

“Is that good, or bad?”

Sans stays quiet for a few seconds. “...good, i think. at least, for you. not so sure how good that is for us.”

“Good.” You hum. My, you’d gotten bolder. You weren’t sure if it was the experiences you’d been through or the physical properties of what you’d just eaten, or a combination of the two, but you weren’t nearly as afraid as you’d been before. 

“I HAVE RETURNED!!” The front door is suddenly slammed open, causing drywall to crumble from the wall it hits. You jump, letting out a high pitched squeak.

Sans, having also startled, slumps back into the couch upon seeing that it was just his brother. “shit, paps. ya nearly gave me a heart attack, and i don’t even _have_ a heart.”

“A LITTLE NONEXISTENT CARDIAC EXERCISE IS GOOD FOR HEALTH!” Papyrus exclaims.

“where’d you learn that?”

“A BOOK FROM THE DUMP! IT WAS SOME SCIENCEY THING.”

“anatomy?”

“ANASTROPHE? I DO NOT SEE WHAT ENGLISH LANGUAGE LITERARY TERMS HAVE TO DO WITH THIS.”

Sans slaps the front of his face, pinching the bridge of his nasal bone between two fingers before huffing and looking back at Papyrus. “no, paps. _anatomy_.”

“YES, PRECISELY! ANASTROPHE.” Papyrus glances at you, and in the brief moment before he looks back to his brother, you see something in his expression.

He’s making a _joke_.

You hadn’t realized that before. They’d run through this type of skit when you’d first gotten down here, and you’d just assumed that Papyrus was hard of hearing, or dumb. But the hint of a smirk on his face tells you otherwise. He’s _tricking_ his brother.

“Yeah, anastrophe,” you join, noting the small nervous way Papyrus darts his gaze to you then back. “As in, the inversion of the usual order of words or clauses?”

Time to flex your AP English Literature muscles. You weren’t confident that you could actually hold up your end if you had to name more terms, though. You’d taken the class two years ago and you’d never been the best at English anyway.

“wh- no, i said-”

“-YOU SAID ANASTROPHE! NO WORRIES, BROTHER! I AM HERE TO SAVE YOU FROM YOUR ABSOLUTE INEPTNESS AT ANY AND ALL TASKS!”

“no! i just-” Sans grinds his teeth together in frustration, some ugly noise bubbling up in the back of his throat. “whatever.”

He blips out of the room. When the weird rainbow lights behind his door resume their perpetual motion, you know that’s where he is. Papyrus gives you a large smile.

“THAT WAS AWESOME! THANKS!”

You smile weakly. “Yeah.”

He looks at the plate. “I SEE YOU ATE! SPLENDID!”

You glare at him and his chipperness. “You did that on purpose.”

“DID WHAT?”

You cross your arms. “You knew I’d eat it even though I didn’t want to. You put it there on purpose.”

“YES. BUT! FOR WHATEVER REASON, IT MAKES PEOPLE DIFFERENT, SO YOU PROBABLY DON’T CARE MUCH ANYMORE.”

He was right. While you were slightly peeved for the sake of how you used to think, you weren’t really all that upset. “Different?”

“DIFFERENT! I DID NOT ALWAYS LOOK AND ACT LIKE I DO, YOU KNOW.”

You can’t imagine him looking any way else. If you took away his crooked, stained teeth and sunken eye sockets, and the height that makes him stoop when entering through doorways, would he even look remotely the same?

“What happened? With the food, I mean.”

Papyrus sighs. “I SUPPOSE MY BROTHER PULLED ONE OVER ON ME. I WOULD NOT EAT HUMAN, AND I WAS STARVING. SO HE GAVE ME A HUMAN HEART AND SAID IT WAS THE LAST OF THE FOOD HE WAS SAVING. I COOKED IT, AND I GUESS MY MAGIC REACTED POORLY.”

“He gave you a _human heart_ and you thought it was just normal food?”

Papyrus looks offended. “IT’S NOT LIKE I HAD SEEN ONE BEFORE!”

“But... why would that change you?”

“TSK TSK. SEEMS LIKE SOMEONE NEVER LEARNED BASIC MAGIC PROPERTIES.” 

Your face goes deadpan, and he at least has the sense to look sheepish when he realizes that you most definitely hadn’t. You’d just kind of been figuring things out as you went.

Papyrus clears his nonexistent throat. “ERM. YES. ANYWAY. MONSTER BODIES ARE A PHYSICAL EXPRESSION OF THEIR MAGIC. IF MY MAGIC IS DAMAGED OR WEIRD OR ANYTHING, YOU WILL BE ABLE TO TELL JUST BY LOOKING AT ME.”

“That sounds sort of inconvenient.”

“NO, NOT AT ALL!” Papyrus exclaims. “IT’S ACTUALLY VERY DIFFICULT TO MAKE ANY SORT OF PERMANENT CHANGE. YOU’D NEED A REALLY SCARRING EVENT.”

“Like eating a person?” You ask, already knowing the answer.

“LIKE EATING A PERSON,” he affirms, nodding.

“So, what. You ate it, and all of a sudden you were like this?”

“THE CHANGE WAS RATHER IMMEDIATE, YES. I FOUND MYSELF WITH A WHOLE NEW SET OF MORALS TO CONTEND WITH, AND A NEW APPEARANCE TO MATCH IT.”

You felt like you’d changed mentally. It could make sense, you seemed to have some sort of magic of your own. “Why wouldn’t my appearance be different?”

“HUMANS ARE WEIRD. FLESHIER.”

“Some of the monsters in that bar you almost let me die in we’re fleshy. They still seemed pretty warped.”

“THAT WOULD BE DIFFERENT,” Papyrus decides. “MAGIC FLESH. YOURS IS MORE… ORGANIC.” He looks like he’s thinking for a moment, before continuing. “SINCE WE ARE ENTIRELY COMPOSED OF OUR MAGIC, WE ARE MUCH MORE SUSCEPTIBLE TO CHANGE. DESPITE THE LACK OF A CHANGE OF APPEARANCE, I AM GUESSING THE WAY YOU THINK AND ACT HAS CHANGED?”

You nod.

“IF YOU DID NOT HAVE THE MAGICAL ABILITIES YOU HAVE, THAT WOULD NOT HAPPEN. ANY NORMAL HUMAN WOULD PROBABLY BE THROWING UP AND SOBBING THEIR EYES OUT AFTER EATING WHAT YOU JUST DID. MAGIC IS ADAPTABILITY TO NEW CIRCUMSTANCES. THAT IS ONE THING MOST OF YOUR SPECIES SEEMS TO LACK.”

So you’d been… modified? Changed, to fit your surroundings? Somehow that doesn’t upset you as much as it should have.

“That’s… insane.”

“YES! IT VERY MUCH IS! NOW, EAT UP, AND ONCE YOUR STRENGTH HAS RETURNED, WE CAN WORK ON MORE PUZZLES FOR FUTURE HUMANS!”

Were you strong enough to cook dinner tonight? You’d test the waters.

You struggle you push yourself up from laying down. A wave of dizziness overcomes you, and you brace yourself on your hand until it passes. You’d probably be weak for a while, until you’d eaten enough to gain back your health. Still, you want to keep trying. If this is really the only reason you’re useful around here, you don’t want to give either of the brothers any reason to think you weren’t willing to do your job.

You swing your legs off of the couch, planting your feet firmly on the ground. Grimacing, you stand up. 

Sparks of white and yellow and red shoot across your field of vision, and your knees wobble like you’d just run a marathon. You hold your breath to calm the slight queasiness in your stomach, pick up the plate you left of the floor, and start walking to the kitchen.

It’s a lot different cooking this when you know you’ll also be eating a plate of it. You’d already grown somewhat used to this process, you just felt somewhat… numb, now.

“ ~~WeLComE bAck.~~ ”

You whirl around, breath catching when you see the sudden darkness. It was black, such a deep black that your mind couldn’t even comprehend its pitch darkness. It went on and on and on and on and on, the nothingness and the lack of anything filling up space infinitely and yet simultaneously being nothing at all. It was dark.

You remembered this place.

How could you forget? This place was dreadful. A sense of unease crawls up your spine like a long legged spider, and you shiver. It was cold, freezing, beyond freezing. It was cold and it was hot and you couldn’t breath. 

It was dark.

You try to speak. You know you heard a voice. When you open your mouth to say something, nothing comes out. 

Shocked, you put a hand up to your throat, and when you try again, you definitely feel the vibration of your vocal cords against your fingers, but no actual sound comes out. You try again. You try to scream. You try to cry. You can’t do anything.

You’re standing in the inky black with nowhere to go. 

And then, you’re back.

The real world blinks into view suddenly, and the dazzling light of the dimly lit kitchen is enough to temporarily blind you. The difference between the infinite black of where you’d just been and the dingy lighting of this room was enormous, beyond understanding. Your knees wobble and buckle under you, and you struggle to catch your breath.

You find that you can’t remember what happened. Why you’re breathing so hard, why you’re on your knees on the kitchen tile with your hands on the ground, struggling not to puke. Why it’s such a relief to hear your staggered sobs in the open, like they’d been missing before.

You couldn’t remember what got you into this state. Maybe it wasn’t that important, actually. You were probably just overreacting to the human meat again. You were such a wimp. Of course nothing was happening, you didn’t see how things could get any weirder than they already were.

You brace yourself on the kitchen counter, pulling yourself up. You take a moment to breathe, calm whatever sort of weird panic attack you’d just been through, and steady yourself. You didn’t know how you’d gotten into that position, hunched forward like you were terrified of something. It was like you’d begun in one position and blinked to the next with no filler. You don’t know if it actually matters, now that you really think about it. Static fills your head.

You continue cooking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	11. When You Settle In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You’re starting to really get used to life here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [My Tumblr](https://galaxybrownies.tumblr.com)   
>  [ESaaM Ask Blog](https://ask-esaam.tumblr.com/)   
>  [ESaaM Discord](https://discord.gg/y3fWYp9)

You were starting to have these weird headaches. They weren’t the same as the headaches you’d get when you were hungry, that empty, stinging pain behind your eyes that left you too debilitated to think. No, these were different. They filled your head with fog and caused buzzing in your ears like too many people were talking to you, voices upon voices upon voices overlapping. It became too much sometimes, so whenever you could get away with it without one of the brothers seeing you falter, you’d have to sit down and clutch at your head and your hair and will your head to stop the swirling, mixing chaos.

The headaches were accompanied by weird gaps in your memory. You’d sit down to do something, and suddenly be on the ground fifteen minutes later with no recollection of what happened to put you there. Or twenty. Or thirty five. The time seemed to be growing. The first time you could remember that happening was back in the woods, when you’d tricked that man into falling into Papyrus’s trap. The second time you could remember was the first time you’d cooked after eating human flesh.

Now you were losing your memory randomly, seemingly without catalyst. All that you were left with was a sense of it being cold. Too cold. Almost unthinkably cold. You don’t know how it was possible for something to be so cold.

You force yourself to shake those thoughts off. Despite the chill, it probably really wasn’t super important. You were probably just going crazy. You wouldn’t be surprised if you were.

You occasionally went out to help Papyrus reset his traps. It was always bitterly cold outside, and you had yet to acquire a thicker jacket than the thin green cotton one you’d fallen with. Still, it helped stave off the frustration of becoming stir-crazy, so it helped. It was becoming easier and easier to eat meals with Sans and Papyrus. 

Papyrus found a completely full box of cereal at the dump a couple days ago. He’d had to kill two monsters for it, but Sans seemed to be enjoying himself with it. Or maybe he wasn’t. It was honestly fairly hard to tell with Sans. He seemed to be warming up to you, at least. He didn’t glare at you for nearly as long as he used to, and conversations with him didn’t turn into condescending mocking until at least seven minutes in. You counted it as a positive.

It was weird how all the regular food was automatically deferred to Sans, to be honest. You didn’t see why he would trick his brother into eating human if he wasn’t willing to eat it himself. It seemed kind of selfish to you. Like he was fine with his brother being physically warped and changed to nearly grotesque proportions, but didn’t want it to happen to himself. It was almost cowardly, in a way.

Speaking of, did he even need to eat? Most of the time, there wasn’t any regular food, and Papyrus had cited his longest timespan without any food whatsoever as three years, broken by a soggy pack of beef jerky from the dump. How was he still alive if he needed food? And if he didn’t need it, why was he taking it from the people that did? On that note, if Sans didn’t need food, did Papyrus? Did any of these monsters? Were they just eating because of societal conventions, or did they really need it to love? You don’t want to believe that it could be the former, the way everyone acted seemed to disprove it.

But now you were on regular patrols with Papyrus. They were interesting sometimes, when a trap had frozen over or a monster got stuck in one and you and Papyrus had to let them out. Sometimes...they got gory.

You won’t lie, your empathy levels as of beginning to eat again have dropped to almost nothing. It was fairly immediate. One moment you wanted to puke at the thought of eating human meat, and the second it passed your lips you had no qualms about the issue. It was as Papyrus had said— something about it had changed your (magical?) body composition. You were different, probably irreparably so.

So, yes, sometimes it got gory.

Sometimes, it was you who _made_ it get gory, upon Papyrus’s request.

Sometimes, you feel a thrill in your chest that you immediately rush to repress, but find yourself unable to. You’d gotten an impromptu lesson on EXP and LV by Sans the night offer your first kill. You knew the news should trouble you, but it doesn’t. You can’t bring yourself to care anymore. And you have nowhere else to go, nobody else to rely on, so you might as well do what you’re told. It’s that, or die, and it wasn’t like the second option was permanent anyway. Either way, you would be forced to cooperate.

“Why do people fall so often?” You ask one day while on patrol. “I know at first it was probably because of that kid, but…”

“I KNOW EVEN LESS THAN YOU DO ABOUT THAT.”

You shrug. “True.”

“THE RATE IN WHICH THEY FALL WILL GET MUCH SLOWER IN A COUPLE MONTHS. I HAVE ALWAYS WONDERED WHY, IT IS VERY CONSISTENT, YEAR TO YEAR.” The way he phrased it sounds like a question. You think you may know the answer.

“Oh. That’s because in a couple months it’ll be winter. Not a lot of people would climb a mountain in the weather conditions this area gets during that time.”

“WHY?”

You almost forgot how little he really knows about the surface. You were willing to bet that almost nobody down here knew anything of substance about how it was where you came from. Much less that, while they lived in a town of perpetual snow, the area just above their heads would only be blessed with it for a couple months a year.

“It snows a ton,” you reply, kicking a lump of the stuff under your foot as you walk. “And it's really cold. Harder to climb.”

“HOW DO YOU DEAL WITH THE WEATHER CHANGING LIKE THAT? IF IT SUDDENLY GOT HOT HERE, MANY MONSTERS WOULD DIE.” Papyrus suddenly stops at one of his traps— it looks like it’s been sprung.

“I guess humans are just used to it.”

“YOU PEOPLE ARE INSANE.”

“Many of us, yeah.”

“IT IS ALMOST A SHAME HOW EASY YOU HUMANS DIE,” Papyrus commiserates, yanking a spike out of the human body he’s crouched next to. They appear to be the one who sprung the trap, judging by the number of spikes impaling their body. “I BET YOU WOULD BE A GREAT POWER SOURCE FOR THE CORE.”

“The core?”

“AH, YES. THE NOW DEFUNCT SOURCE OF POWER AND SUPPORTING MAGIC FOR THE UNDERGROUND. IT BROKE A WHILE AGO.”

“So where are you getting your power from now?”

“BEFORE WE HAD THE CORE, WE HAD A COUPLE SMALLER GENERATORS AT THE ROYAL LABORATORY. THEY ARE ENOUGH TO KEEP THE LIGHTS ON, AT LEAST. NOT MUCH MORE. WE LOST THE MAJORITY OF OUR SUPPORT MAGIC, TOO.” Papyrus pulls the last spike out of the human’s body and picks it up, slinging it over his shoulder. “NORMALLY, EVEN WITHOUT THE CORE, OUR MAGIC WOULD HOLD STRONG, BUT THE KING HAD RECENTLY DIED, AND THE SIX HUMAN SOULS WE GATHERED DISAPPEARED, AND PEOPLE WERE STARTING TO GO HUNGRY, SO…”

“...So the drop in emotional well-being weakened your overall magic?” 

“CORRECT-A-MUNDO! I SUPPOSE THAT IF WE HAD OUR MAGIC AT FULL STRENGTH, NONE OF THIS WOULD REALLY BE ALL THAT MUCH OF A PROBLEM! EVERYTHING HAPPENED AT PRECISELY THE WRONG TIME.”

“A domino chain from hell,” you finish.

“HM. YES! EXACTLY! EXCEPT WHAT IS A DOMINO?”

“Don’t worry about it, it’s not that important.” You glance at the bloody trap. “You need help with that?”

Papyrus waves you off. “NO, NO. IT IS FINE.” He nudges the setting mechanism with his boot and it clicks back into position. “THE HUMAN DID NOT MESS IT UP TOO BADLY.” 

“I wonder what their name was,” you think out loud. You weren’t thinking it out of some misplaced emotional response to their bloody corpse, you were just genuinely wondering. “They had to have had one. Like Gwen, Anastasia, Bob…”

“HUMAN NAMES ARE SO STRANGE,” Papyrus scolds you, shaking his head. “I BET THEY HAD A RESPECTABLE NAME! ONE BEFITTING THEIR ROLE AS A PROVIDER TO OUR HOUSEHOLD! ONLY MONSTER NAMES COULD CARRY SUCH PRESTIGE!”

“And what name to you suggest for that?”

“HM… SOMETHING DARING! LIKE PAPYRUS!” Papyrus stops, finger on chin. “ACTUALLY, NO, THAT WOULD BE WEIRD. I CAN’T EAT SOMEONE WITH THE SAME NAME AS ME, THAT WOULD JUST BE WRONG.”

If you were the same person you’d fallen down as, you’d probably say something like ‘ _that’s wrong?! what about the whole eating people thing?_ ’ but you aren’t, so you don’t. After all, you’re no better than he is now.

He pauses, then glances at you. “YOU KNOW, YOU STILL HAVE NOT GIVEN ME ANYTHING TO CALL YOU.”

You freeze up. You know logically that there’s no harm he can do to you with your given name, it’s not like he’s the people up there who’d track you down and drag you back kicking and screaming to your family, but you still have pause. You’re not sure you want to be called that anymore. Not when it reminds you too much of your mother’s biting tone and the way it sounded when she screamed at you and called you selfish, and ungrateful, and unworthy.

No.

But he had to call you _something_ , right? He couldn’t just keep skirting around the use of a name for you, it was awkward. Even if it wasn’t a proper name, he had to call you something. So you think of something. And it isn’t all that flashy, nor as ‘daring’ as Papyrus wanted the human’s name to be. It wasn’t even really a name at all. It was actually what Papyrus and Sans had been calling you from the start of all of this.

So even though most normal people would probably protest being called this, it’s what you feel fits you the best. Like an old, worn in coat. You were fine with it.

“Just ‘the human’ is fine.”

And it was. It would all be fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [My Tumblr](https://galaxybrownies.tumblr.com)   
>  [ESaaM Ask Blog](https://ask-esaam.tumblr.com/)   
>  [ESaaM Discord](https://discord.gg/y3fWYp9)


End file.
